Hunting Stories
by HecateA
Summary: Was it because of the boys? The thrill? The escape route? From Vita to Chantale, Lucy to Tendayi; why the Hunters of Artemis swore to that pledge. T for future chapters and to be on the safe side.
1. Elissa of Amnissos

**Alright, hello readers! This was something I thought of, and I started scribbling and BAM it is on the Internet!**

**This story is rated T because a lot of why the Hunters are Hunters is because of the mistreatment they, amongst other women because the world was brutal to them before, endured during their lives- whenever that was. That treatment may or may not include violence; so just eyes open for that. It's also in chronological order of time. We start in the antiquity, then we get to the Middle Age, colonisation of America and so forth. So bear with me, here. ****Also; Zoë Nightshade is in this because she's been with the Hunters for longer than anybody. But she doesn't speak with her 'thou' and 'thy'. Why? Because this starts in Ancient Greece. Assume this dialogue is in reality Ancient Greek, and Zoë cares about that language enough to keep up with it. **

**Enjoy!**

**PS- For this particular chapter... I'm not the best poet, so amplify quality by 5,7. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunters of Artemis, the PJO world and any characters that may come from it; which include Artemis, Zoë Nightshade, and Phoebe. **

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><p><span>Elissa of Amnissos <span>

16th Century BC

Elissa raised the stick from the sand and looked back at what it'd left.

"Not bad," someone said behind her. "Not bad at all." She spun around to see Nikon behind her, his golden hair held back by a leather headband, and for once he wore his sandals.

"Thank you," she told him. He sat down next to her.

"The hand is crooked. On the right. But other than that it's beautiful." He said.

"I wish I could put it on a vase," she told him. He squeezed her shoulder.

"It deserves to be on a vase." He said. "But you know that won't happen."

Elissa rolled her eyes. Yes she knew. She knew full well, and she felt like kicking someone in the shins for each time she was reminded.

"Or maybe on a tablet. I could even carve it in wood. Draw it on papyrus."

"Stop torturing yourself with that," Nikon said. "Just because your pictures come to life doesn't mean that your dreams will."

"I wish they would."

"Wishing angers our parents." Nikon said. "They want you to marry."

"I know, but I want marriage and dreams come true. Wouldn't it be amazing, that? Having everything you want? Some people do. Father and Mother did. You did."

"That's different," Nikon said. "I'm a carpenter."

"It's what you _wanted_. I _want _to be a poet. I _want_ to be an artist."

"You mayn't." Nikon said. "It's the order of things."

"Order and chaos go hand in hand; one will eventually trip the other, who will eat a mouthful of sand." Elissa said softly, in a sing-song voice.

"That was pretty; but poems like that won't be remembered. Not poems from the lips of a girl."

"It isn't fair. I have things to say; ideas to speak. Why is it assumed only old men with beards look at life?" Elissa said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Because it's assumed that little girls live it," Nikon said. He ruffled her hair, and she caught his hand before he ruined her braid.

"I have to go home; father needs help with the carpentry. He's not as strong as he was, or still thinks he is."

"Age took his strength, but not his soul." Elissa whispered. Nikon ruffled her hair again.

"Don't stay out alone too long," he said before jogging back into the seaside village. She looked up at the sea. At the little lines in the waves. At the different shades of blue that the ocean faded in an out of.

"How can something so beautiful, take lives in such gruesome ways, when all it does is give us plentiful, of food to live and fuel our freedom craze?" She whispered. She wrote that in the sand next to the picture she'd already drawn.

"Maybe if I marry an artist he'll let my work be put under his name," Elissa whispered out loud. "At least someone will hear. At least it won't completely disappear. The name will be false and the praise misguided, but I am ready to engage in this deal one-sided."

No; not even. An artist would stand for himself.

She sighed.

Often when Elissa of Amnissos sighs; amazing, brilliant things happen. Emotion happens.

* * *

><p>"Beautiful- even my husband said so!" One woman said.<p>

"Writing in the sand…" Another said. Elissa straightened up. The market had never been social for her; she'd always been too busy watching the colours and stands and people. She listened too; women bargaining, talking to each other, laughing, gossiping, calling out to children and husbands…

"What?" She asked the woman. She was an old woman that lost all her children in childbirth and who dressed in chitons too short since her husband had passed away, and she had nothing of her own. People had started referring to her simply as Poor Pandora.

"The fishermen were going out to the boats when they found writing in the sand. Beautiful poems; arranged into words like nothing they'd seen from this village before." Poor Pandora said.

"What did they say?" Elissa said, scrambling in her memory. Had she erased the words last night? She always did; but had she maybe just this once…

"Oh- it's absolutely lovely," another named Rhoda said. "My husband memorised it nearly immediately, with the memory he has… Mentor?" She called. "Mentor- what was that poem?"

"Hmm?" A man said looking up uninterested. "Oh.

_A bird on a branch_

_A songbird on a branch_

_He sings a song and people look and see_

_People look and see what that songbird can be_

_I sit in my home_

_I sit alone in my home_

_I, surrounded by people is still, I alone_

_I sing a song but people turn their heads_

_They cover their ears and shroud their hearts in darkness_

_They refuse to hear what song I have to sing_

_I have a song to sing_

_Yet nobody to hear_

_I wish I had wings_

_Like the songbird that they look and see_

Elissa turned pale.

"I know, it's amazing," Rhoda said. "You can go see yourself."

Elissa dropped the basket and ran out of town.

"Elissa!" Nikon ran after her, since he was the one keeping an eye on her while she was out.

She saw people gathered around the rock she usually sat on and look at the drawing on the ground, the words written over and over.

No… This was bad. This was horrible. This was…

"Amazing," Old Man Proteus said. He said that he'd been there since the village was founded, and he was so wrinkled and knowledgeable people didn't know whether to believe him or not. "It's amazing."

This was what she'd always wanted. People reading her words and knowing them and calling them beautiful…

Maybe they wouldn't praise her; but her words were part of her. And if they praised that… Elissa felt good.

* * *

><p><em>I look at the sea every day of every year<em>

_And then I look at your eyes_

_The difference is so thin I nearly shed a tear_

_For the sea is my prize_

_But it shifts so often and violently you cannot grasp it_

_You can try and try, and you might succeed a bit_

_But it will be short-lived, for the sea always shakes you away_

_And since you are the sea; I know my heart is astray _

_Trying to touch something with which it will only succeed a bit_

* * *

><p>It was dark. She took a torch and gingerly walked out of her parents' house. Luckily it was on the outskirts of the village and it was easy to get back to the rock. The big rock in the beachside where she always sat, always wrote… She planted the torch in the ground and kicked the sand flat again. She sat down on the rock and thought. She looked at the stars.<p>

_Star bright, above my head_

_You're not worth the tears I shed_

_When you disappear under the sky's new dress_

_And when sun and white clouds are to what I address, _

_Yet my heart yearns for you to rise_

_For when you do; I can show what I have to the world's dark eyes_

For now a month she had done this. She had written poems in the sand and people would run out in the morning to check for them and memorise them and tell them to their friends. She drew sometimes, and people would admire them. A little boy hopping down the road and talking about night birds had made Elissa's day, since it was her latest fascination, and the latest thing her words spoke of. They all fumbled around her and spoke of his talent and she stood behind them, nodding and awing so nobody would know. Her mother had even said that if the poet was within age of marriage, Elissa would find him most suitable. She'd bit the inside of her cheek not to laugh.

* * *

><p><em>I wear a mask<em>

_But I am unafraid of my face_

_I wear a mask_

_But I am unafraid of my face_

_I am but fearful of what you would say if you saw_

_The face given to me by the gods united with the fate I chase _

_You wonder but you shouldn't_

_You ask questions but you should have answers_

_You look but you don't see_

_I am right in front of you_

_The poet that came to be_

_You just refuse to even think_

_That maybe I'm more than I can be_

"Stop!" Someone yelled. Elissa turned around, nearly knocking the torch down. She saw a few boys, maybe fourteen, fifteen years old coming at her. "What are you doing to the poem?" One said.

"I…"

"Erasing it, are you?" One said looming over her menacingly. Elissa's heartbeat accelerated so fast it hurt. Bad things happened in situations like this, she knew it. She heard the stories. It was why she wasn't allowed to go out alone when the village slept and its streets were deserted.

"Sabotaging it? Just because you don't enjoy it doesn't mean that we don't!" One said.

"I… I…"

Elissa was lost for words for once.

"Damn you to Hades," one boy said, raising his hand.

* * *

><p>Elissa was curled in a ball when she woke up. She climbed off her bed. She tried to lay a fingertip on her eye and she winced the second she did.<p>

She hoped there was no mark. No blood, no scratch from their nails, no ugly black and blue skin… If there was her mother would yell and freak. Her mother would yell and freak anyways of course; once those boys told the villagers about Elissa sabotaging _their_ beautiful poems… As if nobody had noticed her love for words, or how she walked about humming them, and rhyming her sentences.

So she snuck out of the house. She shouldn't have; it was against belief and improper; but she couldn't have Nikon or Father with her now. She just walked down the street in a rage, and fled to the seaside.

"Why is it you demand the truth, and deny it while it's in your hand…? Why is it you beg for a roof, and then complain night and day when it's anywhere under grand..? Why is it you chase perfection, when you chase it away at the first occasion..?" She muttered angrily.

The words in her head were like orders to talk. Except they came in rhymes and variety unlike others. Elissa couldn't explain it, and she knew that someone would find her, some fisherman would spot her, and then she'd have to.

But she didn't want it. She just wanted to have her words in the sand and a pat in the back. For people to stop yelling at the sky and thanking the poet while she was at their side, or in the room… It pained her suddenly; that she was least likely to be the mysterious poet. Those boys had proved it to her.

"You speak well." Somebody said. She spun around and saw a girl dressed in silver.

"Thank you," Elissa said. The girl wore a dress far too short- shorter than Poor Pandora's. At her knee! And her sandals were men's, like what Father said the Olympians of Olympia ran with. She had weapons upon her back as well; a most particular girl overall.

"Who taught you?" She asked.

"Nobody. I watched my brother write and learnt how. The words just come in my head."

"You're a natural poet," the girl said in wonder. "What an incredible talent. It's rare. Like Homer."

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter. Have you written anything grand yet? Epics?"

"Grand… no. I've written in sand. And my words have been erased. I've written what they wanted, and they scorched my blood, sweat and tears." Elissa said.

"I don't understand poetry and metaphors and all," the girl said. "What do you mean?"

They walked down the beach –away from the village- and Elissa spoke to the girl that she didn't even know. But the girl did something only Nikon and a handful –a pinch actually- of others had; she listened.

"So let me get this straight; they don't think you've got or can have the talent, because you're a girl." She said.

"Exactly." The girl sneered.

"They haven't heard of Amazons or Atalanta or Hunters, now have they?" She sneered.

"Hunters?" Elissa asked.

"Of Artemis. The goddess hunts and we, her hunters, follow; loyal to her. She brings us to places we never thought we would go, shows us things we shouldn't be shown according to society, and lets us do things with the same limits." The girl said. "With her, anything is possible; whether a man lets you do it or not."

She thought back to the boys. Hitting her because she did something not allowed. They were accusing her of the wrong thing. They should be acknowledging her talent after years of standing next to her in the village or market and not even realising how she spoke or what she spoke of. They should have _listened _to her. They should have _let her_. They should have _acknowledged_ what she could do; an incredible talent, like the girl had said. And last night; when they caught her; they should have caught themselves in their false tracks and_ begged_ for forgiveness.

She didn't deserve the black eye. She deserved what the girl spoke of.

"What is your name?" Elissa asked the girl.

"Cyanae," the girl said, "Cyanae of Corinth, daughter of Zeus- although it doesn't matter from where I am now."

"How many girls are like you?" Elissa asked.

"About fifteen," Cyanae said. "But there is always, always room for one more."

"May I be the one?" Elissa said. "I love my brother and family but…"

"But this is your chance to use the words you have. Not to let your talent spoil, because who knows when another one like that will come around, and I mean it…"

Elissa realised the girl didn't know her name.

"Elissa of Amnissos," she said.

Cyanae brought Elissa back to her home. It was a campsite. Silver tents were suspended around a fire where girls walked, boiling water, poking at the coals, throwing strips of meat to wolves with fur as white as it comes. They talked amongst one other and laughed.

"Cy, did you find the nearest village?" A girl wearing a kind of crown asked.

"Yes Zoë," Cyanae said. "And I found someone too. She's interested in leaving and never coming back."

The fourteen other girls gathered around to throw their names around and say hello and learn her name. It was the kind of warm welcome a rich or royal man got in the village.

"Follow Zoë; she will take you to Lady Artemis." Cyanae said. "She is our lieutnant."

"Lady Artemis was finishing a conversation with her Father and Lord; but she shan't mind meeting you at all." Zoë promised Elissa. "She likes bright minds, and she likes bringing them where they can shine. With us."

* * *

><p>Back in the village; the rumour started that Elissa, the carpenter's daughter, had been tampering with the poet's art. As they looked or her they realised she was gone. Most of them thought 'good riddance- that was a wicked girl who didn't belong anyplace anyways!' and had no trouble sleeping at night.<p>

But they had problems going through the day when they realised that Elissa was gone the same day their poems stopped appearing in the sand...

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><p><strong>Next Chapter <strong>

"I know what you liked about it. People cheering your name, and calling it, and praising you. Children and grown men alike idolising you, calling themselves by your name in their games of make-belief. But I do not like it. I do not want it."


	2. Sabina

**Hey guys! Just wanted to slip a quick note about this being the Christmas chapter that I didn't have time to post or review yesterday (this is my longest one), and a quick thank you for the reviews and favorites and alerts! I hope you like this; this is one of my favourites! **

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><p><span>Sabina <span>

Vita Curius Aquilina

_215 BCE_

Someone prodded Sabina in the back.

"Move," the man grunted.

"I do ask for you to be gentle to her," Sabinus requested to the guard. "She is of great worth to me."

"She's a slave," one of the guards said. "Whatever she does, we can do what we like to her."

Sabina tried to block out what she was hearing, and just walked faster like they asked. She knew her place. She wasn't to backtalk, or resist, or fight, or boast. She was only to fight. And only in an arena.

She was sure Sabinus was ignoring what the soldiers told him. The old man hated being told what to do. He'd been a slave like Sabina was now; and he'd made the solemn resolution that now that he was free from the arena, nobody would tell him what to do anymore. That he'd be his own person and do his own, successful, thing. And he did exactly what people had done to him now that he was a free, rich and powerful like he always wanted. Sabina wanted to punch him for it.

Heavy wooden doors were opened by men in shining armour and red cloaks, and Sabina was shepherded to the end of the carpet, at the foot of the emperor's throne. Two guards forced her on her knees, pushing on her head to go down, and there was a proclamation of _Ave Caesar. _

"You are Sabinus Modius Aquiline?" The emperor asked. "As I sent for?"

"Yes, my Lord." Sabinus said.

"Rise. I have an offer to make you."

"By all means, I will please my Lord." Sabinus said.

"Good. I have heard of your slaves' performances in battle. I've heard more particularly of _her_."

Sabina raised her head. She was certain they were talking of her.

"Rare are the ones who put females in the arena." The emperor said rising to his feet, and walking closer to Sabinus.

"I myself don't think much of it, but she was the daughter of two of my slaves, and the audience loves her." Sabinus said. The Emperor was standing so very close to Sabinus now.

"I, find it thrilling." He turned his heals and paced again. "And she… She is young. She is pretty. She is fast and slick. And I would like her in my games."

"In your games?" Sabinus chocked. "In the Coliseum?"

"Yes," Emperor Nero said, looking down on Sabinus. "Is that a problem?"

"No my Lord. It is an honour. For the girl and for me." Sabinus said.

"Good. And I want her. No switching her for another one of your slaves or substituting, none of that." He waved his hand.

"Yes, my Lord. If she survives her next battle tomorrow, she will be there." Sabinus promised.

"I have confidence that she will." Emperor said. "Now off. Present yourself at the Coliseum next festival with her. They will let you in, as long as you tell them you bring Sabina. Or as I project to call her, Sabina the Sword's Mistress."

"Yes, my Lord, yes." Sabinus nodded.

And just like that, Sabina was prodded in the back until she got up and left the throne room. Once they were back outside the Emperor's summer home and its areas, the guards left them and it was simply Sabina and Sabinus; her master. The man her name came from, as was the tradition of being born or sold into slavery. Sabina was the first; she hadn't even had a name of her own ever. She'd always lived with Sabinus'.

"You should be honoured, Sabina. The Coliseum…" He said dreamily. "It is an honour some others would kill to have."

"Well let them have it." Sabina said. Sabinus raised an eyebrow.

"The Emperor wants you."

"Well I do not want the Emperor and his glory and fame and riches. I do not want to fight for an audience, nor for him. I wouldn't want to fight for _the gods_."

"You mustn't speak that way."

"I would fight for the legion," Sabina said. "They fight for freedom and grandeur. That is worth it. But why for the cheers of a million Romans?"

"Because it is magical." Sabinus said. Like that settled it.

They walked in silence for a while, Sabina's hands growing tired of the chains holding her hands behind the back.

"I know what you liked about it. People cheering your name, and calling it, and praising you. Children and grown men alike idolising you, calling themselves by your name in their games of make-belief. But I do not like it. I do not want it." Sabina said.

"I know what you think, but you shouldn't think; you should do." Sabinus said.

"I should do? Really? Just like I _did _kill Domitius last time?" Sabina said.

"Domitius wasn't good enough," Sabinus said.

"Domitius was my _friend."_ Sabina said. Horrible imaged of him, laying on the ground, hair stranded in sweat spread on the ground, his whole face wet, and a gash spitting blood down his cheek. That was the last image she had of him before the host flashed a thumbs up at her, and she threw her sword down and slit his throat. "Fighting isn't about killing friends. I don't want to fight for people who make me do that."

"Shut up, Sabina. Silly girl, you don't know what you're talking about; this is an exceptional offer for you, and your career. You could have been born to less forgiving masters with appetites for more than fights, or doing laundry or cooking right now if it weren't for me, and if you keep arguing with me every single chance you get…"

"I think _you_ don't know what you're talking about. You must've forgotten what it's like to slit a friend's throat as if he's a foe if you're making me do the same. And having people _watch_…" Sabina said in disgust.

"Slaves shouldn't think, they should do. Now not a word more or you shan't receive meals." Sabinus said.

"Then I wouldn't be strong for your emperor." Sabina said snidely.

Sabinus ended the conversation there (knowing his slave was right) and just walked Sabina back to his Roman house, attached to the _ludus. _The gladiator school. She passed people scrimmaging with wooden sticks as swords, and planks of wood as shields.

Sabinus deposited her in her cell and left.

"And?" Gordianus asked her.

He was a man much older than Sabina; old enough to her father, although he wasn't. Her father was an old gladiator, killed in battle before her mother had even given birth to her. A Roman citizen who had done wrong in the legion and who had been sold into slavery, to Sabinus'_ ludus_, where he'd fallen in love with another of Sabinus' slaves- that had in turn died of desperation after their child was born. He was dead. Not in his thirties, with eyes younger than his age in brightness, but hair older with its grey streaks. That was what she saw in Gordianus.

"I am to fight in the Coliseum." She said. Gordianus whistled.

"Impressive."

"You know I don't want to, Gordianus." She said.

"I know," he said.

"I don't want to fight for them. They watch me, they love me- yet they put me in danger every tournament, every chance they get. They wait to see who I kill and don't think about how it is to kill." Sabina ranted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I know," Gordianus said. "I know you hate it. But at least they love you."

"They love me for my looks," Sabina said.

"And you are a pretty girl, although it is hard for me to see you as more than perhaps a little sister." Gordianus said. "And your natural strength."

"I am not natural," Sabina said. "Nature is not killing people for show."

* * *

><p>Sabina was standing in the tunnel maze that led to the doors of the small arena today's tournament was hosted in.<p>

Sabinus squeezed her shoulder.

"You are not to lose today." He said. "You will also not let yourself die, or fight any less than usual to avoid the Coliseum, or I swear on the river Styx that I will make sure your decent into my father's domain is atrocious, long and painful."

A chill traveled up Sabina's spine. His father was not human, and Sabina knew that he had that kind of power. The kind of power to make your death atrocious. Just as Sabinus made her life atrocious. He was the Lord of death; which explained Sabinus' life pulling long enough for him to be freed and established as a gladiator trainer.

"Are we clear?" Sabinus said.

"Yes Master." Sabina said.

"Good." And he eclipsed himself, leaving her with the guards. She took a deep breath for the battle to come. She'd win this- she had to. Sabinus would damn her if she didn't, and damned was one thing she rather keep out of if she wasn't already knee-high in it.

She was pushed into the arena and the crowd cheered when they saw her and called her name. "Sabina! Sabina! Sabina!"

She saw her opponent; a boy of 17 at the most. He was older than her, and taller. He fought with a gladus, sword, like her. She stood at the door, unmoving like a mantis.

He charged first, and Sabina ran to meet him as the crowd cheered.

She caught his sword on her blade and twirled it, sending it flying. He held on, and the momentum unbalanced him. Sabina swept his legs out from under and he tripped, cutting him across the cheek as he fell. He staggered back up, his footing uneasy, and Sabina slashed again, at his arm. A large gash opened, like the top of a box being lifted off. She slashed with the most powerful blow yet and his leg started dripping blood. He obviously had never practiced fighting with someone as quick as Sabina was. He fell back farther, and Sabina just pressed the tip of her sword into his hand so he'd drop it. She kicked it away like those ball games free children played.

The other gladiator was new and weak and inexperienced at this.

Sabina stabbed him through the shoulder and he screamed for the first time, letting out what he'd been holding in. He'd die that way now.

She turned towards the audience, but she looked at the host. She remembered the first time she'd done that; she felt victorious and powerful. That was the only time; after that she felt disgusted. People flashed thumbs up or thumbs down, depending on who wanted to see the boy live or die. But the host's vote was veto. He was the one Sabina was forced to listen to. She fought for the whole crowd, and killed for the host.

He flashed his thumb down and the whole crowd burst into noise. Sabina raised her sword. The boy gulped but looked at her, until his neck was cut and he had lost enough blood for it to show in the sandy ground.

This was going to be a long tournament.

* * *

><p>Sabina was lying on her bed of hay, starring at the dripping ceiling of the <em>ludus <em>cell. She could hear Gordianus and her other roommates, as well as the gladiators on either sides of the paperthinn walls, snoring and twisting and turning in bed, not that she dared wake them up from the nightmares causing the later.

So very little people saw the humane side of being a gladiator.

Contrary to the others, she couldn't sleep. Tomorrow the crowd would be bigger than any crowd she'd ever seen or killed for. Gordianus, Nonus, Marcus, and her other friends had promised that the cheers would be bigger. But Sabina wasn't interested. She'd just be a bigger show.

She turned in bed.

Was that all her talent was? While she could be fighting wars with the legion or living off of some hunting, she was killing humans for show. Couldn't she do better than that?

A pool of torchlight told Sabina that the guards were coming, but before she could adjust herself so they would not see her face, or calm her breathing to give the allusion of being in Hypnos' arms; Sabinus came. His eyes landed on her.

"You do not sleep?"

"No." Sabina said.

"Well then walk with me." He said.

Sabina had never thought of what she'd like to do, she'd never even thought of ever having that option, but she knew in that split-second that walking with Sabinus in the middle of the night was not one of them.

"I don't understand your stubbornness." Sabinus said as they strode around the _ludus_. "You should be honoured to fight."

"I don't like doing it for the reasons I am."

Sabinus sighed.

"I swore to your father I wouldn't tell you until you were nearly sure yourself, but…"

"But what?" Sabina asked.

"You mustn't question your Master." Sabinus said.

"Forgive me, Master." she said.

"You like to fight, don't you?" He asked.

"I like scrimmaging with Marcus and Nonus, and once upon a time Domitius in the _ludus_ court yard." She said. "I like being taken through the armoury by the guards. But I don't like to be a show. An attraction, like an animal in a cage or a statue."

"There's a reason you fight, Sabina." Sabinus said. "And I swore to your father, but…"

"You swore a promise to my father?" Sabina said chocked. Why would Sabinus do anything like that to him? "But he was a slave."

"Yes, well, on a man's death bed, one does odd things." Sabinus said, nearly to himself.

"He died in the arena," Sabina said. "Just like I will."

"No," Sabinus said. "You do not understand. He died of an illness; the kind that spreads like wildfire in a _ludus_. _After _you were born."

Sabina shifted uncomfortably. This shifted the story Sabinus had told her a total of 4 times in her whole life.

"But my mother died of desperation for him," she said. "Why did she..?"

"Your mother isn't dead." Sabinus said, sounding annoyed with having to count this obvious logic to someone so clueless. "She is alive. She has been alive for a long time. She has always been alive."

"What do you mean?" Sabina asked.

"Your mother was the goddess Bellona." Sabinus said. "A Roman goddess. Our own goddess, as Romans. She is younger than most other deities, and you are one of her first children."

"Sabinus, I-"

Sabina was alone in the night with a madman. Maybe he was drunk. Maybe he suffered from trauma to the head from one of his last fights all those years ago. Either way; she shouldn't be there with him.

"Don't look so afraid of me," Sabinus said annoyed. "I am not any of the possible excuses you may have come up with. You perhaps remember the little demonstration of my immortal blood I gave you?"

Sabina nodded. A month's worth of nightmares when she'd been little.

"You have immortal blood through your veins as well. The goddess fell in love with your father. He was brave, strong, skilled, and he'd been a legionnaire. And eventually, you came along. One more mouth for me to feed, I thought. I wondered why he did not kill you. Many slaves rather kill their children than let them live in the service. He told me you were a demigod, on his deathbed. I thought it was a sick fever twisting his last thoughts, and I swore to him that I would tell you when you were ready; when you needed answers…

Then you grew up and I saw you do things and react to animals in ways others wouldn't. You saw them for what they were; their true forms of monsters; like only demigods can see. But they never saw you; as if someone up above was protecting you. That's how I confirmed your father's words. And then I found you playing with weapons as a little girl and I thought that maybe, just maybe, you could be your worth."

"I don't believe you."

"Find me an explanation as to why a girl of mere fourteen beats men that are both older and more experienced." Sabinus said. "Don't call your master a fool or analyse this yourself; take what I say. A slave mustn't think, you must simply…"

"Do." Sabina finished.

"See? You _have_ proven your worth." Sabinus said, satisfied.

"Then free me." Sabina said.

"Why would I do that?" Sabinus said.

"Because if I _am_ a daughter of the war goddess-" a feeling crept in Sabina's stomach; like this was true. Like she'd known deep down all along... "-Then I can win wars in the legions." Sabina said.

"There is a difference between gladiator fights and legions. No women in the second one." Sabinus said.

"Or; the last is an actual battle with purpose."

Sabinus didn't even argue. He simply grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the cell where Gordianus and Nonus slept, and where Domitius' area stayed empty since he'd died.

"Sleep; for tomorrow I do not care what you think; you will fight."

And he slammed the door and locked it.

If she twisted her neck and closed an eye, squinted the other, she could see the stars through a crack in the wall. Gordianus had showed her all the stars once. She wished she could see enough of them to make the constellations he'd shown. Maybe one day she would. The sky would be open to her, she'd see more than the ceiling and spaces where dead friends slept.

She remembered the day she'd come back from the tournament he died in.

_A guard thrust her into the cell and Gordianus and Nonus shot up straight. They'd been locked in all day; on tournament days, the ones who didn't go stayed locked because there weren't as many guards to keep a tab and the master was away._

_Sabina sat on the edge of her bed, her head bowed down. She had a cut on her cheek, but that was considerably little damage._

_"Where's Domitius?" Nonus asked her. She didn't answer._

_"Sabina..?" Gordianus asked. "Where is he?"_

_They both knew. If a gladiator didn't come back with the others, he wasn't coming back._

_"Dead."_

_And then she burst into tears._

_Sabina had so barely ever cried, it shocked them all. They tried to console her, they let the food slipped between the bars get cold(er) and they didn't do anything else. Nonus even climbed on a bed and whispered through the hole in the wall to the other gladiators to please keep quiet and not to alert the master._

_The sun had already dipped beyond the horizon and went to shine on another part of the empire. Gordianus had pulled the blankets over her and he was about to leave her, to let her cry herself to sleep because that was all there was to do when she whispered it._

_"I killed him." She whispered. Gordianus put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed._

_"And you cry; which makes you far more humane than those who didn't."_

She looked up at the stars again.

That day had broken something inside Sabina. And the Coliseum's battles coming closer had erased the line between hatred of the game and that emotion so powerful and superior above it that not many people knew about. What if Gordianus lay sprawled on the ground? And Nonus? What if it was someone younger than her? What would she do?

Not a thing. She would not to one more thing to kill a man.

"Please get me out of here," she whispered to no one in particular. To whoever had time to listen to gladiators, she suposed. "I won't fight tomorrow. I won't raise my sword. If nobody else will free me, then I'll take myself out of the arena. But please… I don't want to do it. Free me if it's not too late."

* * *

><p>She was in the waiting room with the other gladiators. She sat between two new gladiators who had been bought a week ago today. She tied her braid and pinned it to the back of her head to avoid getting it caught in the games, and she ignored the bloodstains on her tunic; just like before every tournament. Except today; her blood would stain it too.<p>

"I don't want to fight." Sabina muttered through clenched teeth. "I want out."

The doors opened.

"Master!" Someone called. Sabinus drifted across the room.

"What is it, Felix?" He asked. "Can't you see I amm busy with the gladiators?"

"There is someone here to see you." He said.

"Is he important?" Sabinus asked. "We are due in the Coliseum soon!"

"_She_ says to be important. She's here for the gladiator girl."

Eyes turned to Sabina.

"Very well, bring them in." Sabinus said. The doors opened and a troop of girls came in. The one in the lead looked younger than Sabina, twelve at the most. The others in the group –Sabina counted ten of them- were at the youngest nine, at the eldest fourteen.

The leader strode up to Sabinus without being invited. She wore not the long dresses of the other roman women; she dressed for action. Like Sabina. Except Sabina had never seen anybody else like her, and she had thought she would never. The girl was also completely in silver.

"Are you Sabinus?" She asked.

"Yes. I demand to know why you stride into my property _armed _with bows and such." He said.

"I want the girl to come with me." The girl said. "Sabina, isn't it?" Her eyes landed on Sabina; they were stricking silver. Not grey like stormclouds; but silver like... Like the moonlight Sabina had been looking at only last night.

Sabinus laughed. "What makes you think my slaves are up for sale? I and my gladiators are due at the Coliseum thanks to her."

"No," the girl said with a smile that said 'foolish you, Sabinus'. "You don't understand. I don't want to _buy_ her; I want her to come with me."

"Come with you? Even less! Ha! Now leave my properties, for we are going to be late."

"For a battle she has not agreed to fight," the girl said. "She has actually made it quite clear she doesn't want to fight."

"She is born for it!" Sabinus said. "Preposterous!"

"She is born to fight, and a warrior always picks his battles. Sabina, do you wish to fight in the Coliseum?" The girl offered.

"No." Sabina said immediately, which might get her whipped after the tournament, but oh well. She wasn't worrying about that; she wouldn't even be back after the tournament. She'd said goodbye to her friends this morning; who had only thought she was worried.

But maybe for what this girl offered… Maybe just maybe...

Her hopes were slowly building.

"There." She said. "Now if you please, Sabinus…"

"Who are you to barge in and spread this propaganda?" Sabinus said.

The girl stared at Sabinus with such intensity that she might burn a hole through him.

"I am the goddess Diana. And I will not take no for an answer as long as this maiden wont. Your choice Sabinus; you can be punished by the Emperor, or you can be punished by me right here; right now."

* * *

><p>"It's not that I don't want to fight," Sabina staggered to explain once the girls in silver had taken Sabina to their camp outside of Rome, outside a marble temple to Diana- who had told Sabina she preferred to be named Artemis. "I just… That's not <em>how <em>I want to fight. And I know it sounds odd considering my kind are supposed to just want to fight, for blood and tears no matter… But…"

"But you want to fight for more than a crowd." The girl nodded. "You can do that with me."

"Then please," Sabina said. "Free me."

"Swear your oath to me, and I will take you far from the Coliseum, from your old master and your past." Artemis said.

Sabina said what she'd been told to, and she looked up at Artemis.

"I am a freed slave?" She asked.

"Yes," Artemis agreed.

"I want to change my name." Sabina said immediately. "Like Sabinus did when he was freed. I want a Roman name; not a slave's name."

Sabina, plain and simple; not the name of a Roman citizen, the name of a slave. She had always been so jealous of the Quintinas, Julias and Aurelias that walked in the market and streets with their own names and their own persons. But she was her own person now too…

"What shall we call you?" Artemis said. Sabina raised an eyebrow. Someone agreed with her. Someone not in chains- a _goddess _at that!

She paused to think. She'd never been given a choice before; much less something big like this. She barely knew any names.

"Vita," she said. She'd heard it once; a woman in an arena. It was pretty. Whatever it meant. "Curius," she said, remembering that her father had been Nicia Curius Flaccus when he'd been a free man. "Vita Curius Aquilina."

"_But Aquiline was part of your master's name_," girls reminded her for her entire time in the hunt, whenever she explained where she was from (it was a complicated question to answer; some people said 'New Jersey', 'Kentucky', but she had to say 'Ancient Rome's gladiator system').

Because she'd never forget what it was like to fight an empty cause, and that she was lucky to fight for herself.

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><p><strong>Next Chapter<strong>

He wasn't such a beauty- inside _or_ out. Greedy, old, stuffy, alone for the last few years… But in Paris 1603, he had what counted. Money. Status.


	3. Chantale Descoteaux

**Hey guys! Happy New Year's! Thank you so much for the amazing feedback! You guys rock! I hope your year does too :)**

**So this chapter is based off of real things that happened to real girls, and not only in France like today's hunter. We learn about it at school _every single year in the dang curriculum, _so I thought it might be around time I put that knowledge to _some _use, meaning fanfiction. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the real hunters who appear, Rick Riordan's portrayal of their leader, or the PJO world.**

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><p><span>Chantale Descoteaux<span>

_1603_

She was a beauty- with blue black ringlets, bright blue eyes, a clever mind and a smile worth a million sunny days. People talked about Chantale Descoteaux valiantly; she was selfless. She even stopped and spoke with the men who spoke to nobody, and she chatted to those who slept on street corners. She was strong minded, but her soft side put people in front of herself.

But she had a beast to go with the beauty.

He wasn't such a beauty- inside _or_ out. Greedy, old, stuffy, alone for the last few years… But in Paris 1603, he had what counted. Money. Status.

And that made him the perfect husband.

_Murphy's law, _thought Chantale. _I don't care for him._

But caring and marrying were two different sides of the scale, and what counted was raised higher; so marriage it was for Chantale.

She'd done the math and between her 14 years and his 45, there was a 31 year difference. Her parents saw no problem with that, but Chantale did. Oh she saw it so crystal clear…

"Chantale?" A voice said at the door. She turned around to see her mother standing in the door in her very best dress, her hair tied up at its best. Just like Chantale.

"He's here, my love."

"I wish I wasn't." Chantale said, putting the book she'd pulled from a shelf closed. Mother's blue eyes dimmed in disappointment.

"Chantale, you know that-"

"Yes, I know." Chantale snapped. "I know everything that there is to tell me about this _stupid _marriage!"

"Chantale!" Mother snapped back.

Chantale didn't listen. Her mother had no rights on her. And if she did; she'd probably sell those off too.

But she _did _follow her Mother into the dining room. Her father was seated to the left of a big man, with broad shoulders. His beard and hair were long, neat and proper. His eyes were green but cold and plain. There was nothing good to say about them; they weren't like emeralds or twinkling with life or any of that.

"Chantale," her mother urged in a whisper. Chantale bit down on her lips.

"I apologise for being late." She said, curtsying, bringing up the edges of her dress. It was her best dress, and she yet did not understand why it had to come out right now.

"Not a problem, my dear." Father said. "You can sit beside Mr De Savoir." He said gesturing towards the guest. If Chantale had been in any other frame of mind she would have refused, but Jeanne and Marie watched; her two little sisters. Both were dressed alike in blue dresses, both had their blond hair put up nicely, and both had their set of sparkling blue eyes on Chantale.

She couldn't disappoint them, or show them bad manners no matter how bad she thought of the situation. They looked up at her like a hero, and she owed them more than that.

So she sat down and the meal started.

She watched him like a hawk. She looked out for gluttony, bad manners, bad speak, a word against the king… Anything Chantale could use against him and convince her parents he was a disgusting creature that lived in its own sweat and slime.

But that didn't happen. He wasn't any of those things. He spoke well with a French vocabulary as big as her tutor's. He was polite and he had perfect etiquette and a million other things that didn't really strike Chantale as 'mildly attractive'.

Chantale was despaired by the time he left the manor.

"You see, my love?" Her mother said, pushing her bangs back. "He is perfect. Charming, educated…"

"Rich and socialite?" Chantale sniped in. Her mother frowned and pursed her lips.

"Chantale, some things must be done for family. For those you love."

Chantale's face twisted in horror.

"You even admit it. I'm just married off to exchange money between families, or to bring the family to a higher status and honour. Mother: _that's_ was merchandise is." Chantale said. "I'm a person!" She yelled. "I'm a real person who wants to do things and who doesn't want this!"

"Chantale - that is enough!" Her mother snapped. "You are going to marry this man. Okay?"

"No, it's not okay. I'll be in my room."

She hiked up the stairs, and pushed away Marie and Jeanne's offers to play doll more roughly than she ever had, but she couldn't take it. She slammed the door in the mist poorly behaved and unladylike fashion, didn't care, and collapsed her bed.

She would have yelled in the pillow if she hadn't learned that the walls were like paper a few days ago (when she'd done the same thing). But nobody could hear the thoughts in her head.

Chantale was a person. Didn't anybody see that? Did the mother who had raised her and told her she'd become beautiful and happy really want beautiful and happy to be in the arms of an old man? Did she think that was possible?

Well, that had been her case, so she saw no problem in this, but still- was Chantale not the only one totally blind in this?

She knew she was crying, and she heard the door open. She was about to yell at whoever to go away, but two small bodies cuddled up on either side of her.

"Chantale are you okay?" Marie asked. Chantale tilted her head to see Marie's face, her eyes wide with questions and worry.

"I'm okay, Marie." She said.

"Why are you crying?" Jeanne asked. She turned her head to the other side, to see an identical face with an identical look of worry.

She couldn't tell her sisters the truth. It wouldn't be fair. They were easily influenced little girl; they'd looked up at Chantale their whole lives. If she gave them the idea that getting sent off for marriage was bad, they'd think so too. It'd just hurt more when the exact same thing would be done to them.

"They're happy tears," Chantale lied.

"I'm happy you're happy." Jeanne said.

"Thank you." Chantale said choked. She flipped onto her back and wrapped her arms around both sisters. For some reason, the two little girls didn't bounce up to go play or read or dance around in their rooms. They stayed with her and fell asleep.

Chantale barely closed an eye.

* * *

><p>Paris was blind that morning- heavy fog and mist hung all over the city, giving it ominous looks. Chantale walked them anyways. They felt a lot like what she felt inside, and the cracks in the stone road, Seine River, open shop windows and early morning delivery carts seemed like excellent places to throw <em>the stupid wedding ring. <em>

She'd had to get away from home. She couldn't stand being under a roof that had raised her for this.

She hadn't been allowed to dream in the first place; she knew that. No higher education, no world-wide travels; she knew only a handful of girls ever got that. She'd only been told that she'd marry and have a beautiful family.

The hope of a beautiful family was crushed now, because beautiful implied 'love' and 'happiness'. Chantale was stubborn, the bane of the perfect girl for marriage. She wouldn't be happy if she was pushed into something with her heels digging in the ground.

And that was as much as she was doing. Protesting against her being merchandise, thrown left and right for whatever use she might be, to whatever man might find her pretty.

A group broke the empty stillness. Chantale noticed that they were all girls, the eldest her age, the youngest a few years older than Marie and Jeanne.

_Maybe they're _filles du Roy_, _Chantale thought. _Those orphans or homeless girls shipped to New France to marry the men and birth the population there... _

The girl in the lead stopped and looked at Chantale fixed. Her eyes flowed silver. Not grey- silver. But not metallic like coins, silver like moonlight.

"We do not marry. And certainly not _by order."_ She told Chantale, as if reading her mind. Chantale tried not to look blown out of her mind by this. "We are free. We are people after all."

_Free. No orders. People after all._

"I'd like that," Chantale found herself saying out loud. She bit her lip, had that been spoken out loud? But she found that the girls weren't starring at her with shun, like 'you shouldn't say that'. They looked at her like they… They all understood in their own way.

She found herself pulling off the wedding ring.

"Please take me with you." Chantale asked. It was a risky request. People took girls like her into the night all the time. But this… Chantale could feel it was different. Chantale felt good about it.

"You are already promised," the girl with moonlight eyes told Chantale, nudging her head at her left hand.

"And I'd do anything not to be. I'd do anything to be like you. A real person, after all." Chantale said.

"It's not that simple," Moonlight eyed girl said.

"My reasons are. _I want out _and _I want to make my own choices."_

The girl looked at Chantale, and she wondered if she'd gone a little too far. She was known to be a lot of things, and stubborn was a side that she tried not to show, but had come out more than once in the last little why.

"Girls- Paris is yours for the next two hours. Zoë, stay with me. We have someone to talk to." She said.

The girls took off in cliques and talked, wandering down the streets while Moonlight eyed girl and the handmaiden she'd called Zoë explained everything to Chantale until everything _was_ simple.

"It's like a world in a world. My goodness- is this real?" Chantale said.

"Yes," Artemis said. "Do you take back rash words now, or are you serious?"

Chantale looked at the cliques who had stayed around the Seine's banks with them. Chantale looked from them to Paris- to the ring- to the Seine- to the ring.

"I'm serious," Chantale said. Mother and Father would worry, Marie and Jeanne would cry, the beast would get upset. But Chantale would be happy and free and purposeful. And maybe she _did _need to show that to Marie and Jeanne. Maybe she did owe them the show that they were people and some people would consider them that.

"_I pledge myself to the goddess Artemis._

_I turn my back to the company of men, accept eternal maidenhood, and join the hunt."_

And Chantale would not be merchandise.

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><p><strong>Next Chapter<strong>

-As a son of Aphrodite, he knew how to make her fall in love...


	4. Fallon Lewis

**Holly geez- no excuse for posting so late! Absolutely none! I was busy, but I'm sure I could've managed. I was just confused about what was coming up, because I just skipped a couple of centuries since Chantale and I figured that important things could happen. But that doesn't matter now.**

**This contains spoilers for The Son of Neptune. You have been warned. Wait until the next one if you want, but I have warned you.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson, Heroes of Olympus or Da Vince Code. **

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><p><span>Fallon Lewis <span>

_October 3__rd__ 1864_

The battlefield was rough. She squinted and saw something green coming at her...

"COVER!" She shouted. They scanned the skies and ran away from where the Greek fire would land and-

BOOM!

It rattled across the battlefield.

"Form your lines- form your lines- go! Quickly!" Fallon shouted at the cohort. Their centurion had fallen. The cart filled with injured bodies had stopped by the back where she and Jefferson had stood; observing and strategizing to tell them that Chauncy McAlec was down, and the first cohort was trying really hard to keep it together. Fallon had bounced into action and replaced Chauncy right away.

"Turtle formation- we need to get rid of those catapults! Forth!" She yelled as they formed the formation, rearranging themselves with the skill and organisation that made them the first cohort. Their shields were either at their sides, over them, behind them, or on top. They were unbreakable. Their march was even, synchronised and rapid across the battlefield. They were at the frontier now, and Greeks were scrambling out of their ways having figured out how destructive a turtle formation, when well built, could be.

Giant eagles and Pegasi fought overhead, and you could hear their riders yelling, and occasionally falling. Orders both in Latin and Greek -English being used by both sides and being an advantaged nobody wanted to give- were going around, and it was a miracle any soldier -legionnaire or hoplite- could tell when the order was addressed to them. Catapults, ballistas, siege towers, Pachyderm the elephant causing general commotion for the Greeks, an equestrian unit on the Greek side that reversed it, the gold and silver praetor protector hounds darting between the back where the praetors stood guard and the actual battlefield, Pegasi and eagles invading the skies, caltrops –spiky balls- dropped on the ground to hurt feet and paws, Greek fire burning green, the flashes of bronze or gold... It was all a frenzy. It was all a war.

Suddenly a phalanx emerged in front of them.

"Phalanx at twelve o'clock!" Fallon said. "Prepare for clash. Run past their borders. The first 20 on roll plough on deeper in, the next 20 stand and fight. Form a turtle if you need one, and an orb as the last resort. Remember; we're here for the catapults."

Suddenly a big, cannonball came flying at them. From the size and speed, Fallon knew it'd dent their shields and break through them. Broken bones, their shields would break, the survivors would be at least too injured to leave, the cohort would fade…

"Separate!" Fallon yelled. Only one legionnaire didn't move fast enough to avoid the cannonball, since she was pushing a fellow soldier out of the way. Someone stopped moving to look.

"No, keep going!" Fallon said, pushing her back. "She's gone that was a hit to the head- go!"

"Fallon- it's not a she!" The legionnaire told her. She squinted and gasped as her heart wrenched.

Dear gods it was Jefferson…

* * *

><p><em>One month later<em>

"Praetor Lewis," Jameson, the legion messenger, said. "There is a prisoner to interrogate!"

"A Greek?" Fallon asked, getting to her feet. She hadn't been in the battlefields for a few days since she'd had to come back to HQ. She was dying for the knowledge; ironic given her parentage.

"Yes Ma'am."

Fallon grinned and sheathed her gladus, before following Jameson to the Principia, and descending to the dungeon, by the secret door there. For high maintenance prisoners.

He sat in the back cell. Fallon took a look at him first thing. Thick black hair and the Mediterranean complexion that some _Graecus_ seemed to inherit made him, and he was tall and strong like he'd gotten to work out before plunging into the civil war. That meant experience and training; and of course skill for making it this long. Fallon's thoughts grew bitter when she thought of the trained and experienced men who _hadn't _made it this long. Her jaw locked when she thought back to Jefferson, dead in the field.

He wore their stupid bronze armour, and he was crumpled in a corner; both eyes the bluish tint of an early black eye. He'd been hit. If she needed to torture him she knew where to go now at least, or to push him back using a weakened area. But when she saw what the dark rings were surrounding her breath nearly caught. Melting brown eyes; dark and warm all at once a bit like Jefferson's, except without the hard quality of Bellona that had been his one flaw when he was alive…

_Mars Almighty- snap out of it Lewis!_

"What's your name?" Fallon asked him, trying to sound strict and in control. Good; her voice was normal.

"Sebastian." She said.

"Sebastian who?"

"No- it was Sebastian Maxwell last time I checked." He said. Fallon didn't laugh. He was now in the 'aggravating' category, and gods knew that the category didn't belong in the fort, or within an arm's reach of Fallon.

"Son of?"

"Robert Maxwell."

"And?" She said impatient at this dumb boy playing dumb.

"Aphrodite."

"Alright," Fallon said. "And who are you in the Greek army?"

"Sebastian Maxwell, son of Aphrodite." He said cockily.

"Don't test me boy, you are behind bars, and I am holding a sword." Fallon said with a tight voice. He looked up at her with those eyes that seemed to be everything at once. She pushed the different comparisons and adjectives that she could use to describe the special something that made them more than brown out of her head.

"I'm the General." Sebastian told her.

"Really, now? Congratulations. Jameson- go tell Centurion McDonald to send for a few more of her men to guard Mr General's cell, here. And go find Annabel to see if our Greek intellect matches up with his title."

"Yes Fallon," Jameson said before scurrying up, leaving Fallon alone.

"Fallon's a pretty name," Sebastian said.

"Don't try to soften me up." She said.

"I don't have to try." He said cockily with the kind of confidence and king-of-the-world air she'd liked so much in her ex colleague…

"Don't irritate me either." Fallon said. "I have questions for you and you're going to answer, because as daughter of Minerva, I know 101 fun tricks to do with war prisoners that don't cooperate."

And as son of Aphrodite, he knew how to make her fall in love.

_3 months later_

"Praetor Lewis- our troops in Mississippi are weakening!" Senator Timothy reported as the senate was scrambling with its debates.

"Send a few from Texas; they're conquering well enough." Senator Duncan suggested.

"No!" Fallon said. "They're doing well as it is; that is not something to jeopardise. Retreat from Mississippi."

A few of them looked like 'what?' Fallon was used to that, but usually it was a 'what- how did she come up with that plan?' Now it was a 'what? How can she dare do that?'

"Fallon," Elisabeth Murphy, a sister that had revealed herself as a best friend of equal preciousness, said cautiously. "What do you..?"

"Mississippi is a sacred place to them," Fallon said. "They have a temple there, to one of their important gods, Zeus. They're only trying to protect it. If we leave Mississippi alone, our troops move onto a new land."

There was a shocked silence.

"Is 'conquering' a new concept to you?" Duncan said. "We don't give a damn about their temples! Mississippi is _ours!_"

"We've already pushed them off our territory there," Fallon said. "And we've gained some of theirs. We've showed them who is boss. We can stop now and save soldiers and bloodshed."

Duncan sneered. "Has Lupa gone wrong with you? We are Romans! We do not settle for making a point, we ink it in cement!"

"Fallon," Elisabeth said again, sounding nervous. The siege of Mississippi had been Fallon's idea from the beginning. "Why?"

"Yes Fallon, why are you changing _your _mind?" Timothy asked.

"Logic," Fallon said. "Instinct."

"I'm pushing this to a vote; this is ridiculous." Senator Peter said. Fallon watched as the idea was gruesomely shot down. Her throat knotted up. It stayed that way until she got to the dungeons. She knelt at the cell in the back.

"It's me," she said, taking the hood off her head.

"I knew that," Sebastian said. "My world gets brighter when you walk in."

Fallon smiled to herself and passed her hand through the bars. Sebastian took it and gave it a squeeze. Everything had been behind bars for them. Holding hands, compliments, illegal kisses, falling in love… Fallon couldn't take it, but just a little more time…

"They will still take Mississippi," she told him. "None of them are interested in stopping this war."

_Nor should you, _something in Fallon whispered.

"They will?" Sebastian asked.

"Yes. And I had to show them the blueprints. They think they're brilliant and they're going for it."

"I'm sure they were." He said his energy deflating. He sighed sadly. "Thank you for trying, Fallon. You tried."

"I could try again," she offered. "Or I could come up with something else. I would do anything for you."

"You… No," Sebastian said. "It would be too much to ask."

"What?" Fallon asked him.

"You could free me," Sebastian whispered. "I would make my way back to Camp. I could help them push off and defend Mississippi. Do my part to convince them to pull truce. Tell them about how all of Rome isn't bad," he said, his hand on her cheek. "How a part of it is beautiful."

Fallon put her hand above his.

"Sebastian, if I got caught…" She started nervously. She was the first female praetor of Rome. They'd refused before, saying that if the old ways were to live on, so should this one. Until now, until this war had taken so many boys down refusing the women who were dying to get out of the infirmary, shops and workshops passage wasn't an option. If Fallon were to throw that kind of trust and honour onto the table and look weak for all female gender…

"Which is why I said it was too much." He said. Fallon was torn inside. She was not used to anything being too much. In general she ploughed through things and left them there to die, or built bridges over, sent decoys and ran the other way, came from behind, nothing stopped her.

"It's not," Fallon said. "I just… I don't know if it's a good idea."

"It isn't," Sebastian said miserably. "Don't mind me."

"I'll figure it out," Fallon promised. "I'll make it look like an accident. I could open the door right now. You could knock me out, steal my sword, and run."

"That would mean hurting you." Sebastian said. "And I would never do that."

"Stop being a gentleman!" Fallon said. "A sweet, noble gentleman, yes, but stop it!"

She thought back to all the things about him she's figured out from him. If all those things died- if the sweet noble gentleman prat died off…

"We need to get you out of here."

* * *

><p>It was a month later, and Fallon and Sebastian had whispered plans back and forth many times between kisses Fallon feared would be the last. Now was finally the time to go. It shattered Fallon to watch him go like that, but he had to. It was for his best. It would give his eyes the shine they had on his first day; before he was drained.<p>

She was making her way to the Principia, down the Via Principia, when torches lit up. Fallon was circled by pools of light. She spun around and saw several senators on horses, surrounding Sebastian. She gasped, her mind flicking over to the worst. He'd tried to run before she'd come out to escort him…

Then she saw a smile on his face. A creep, sneaky smile; of the fox running with the crow's cheese. Not the soft and friendly, sweet smiles of Sebastian.

"I brought you your mole," Sebastian said. "Now give me my freedom."

Fallon's breath was stolen from her.

"Sebastian…" she said.

"You may escort him outside the limits of the Tiber," Duncan nodded to Timothy, who walked away with Sebastian; holding him by the shoulder and leading him out. He shot Fallon one more crooked, sly smile and her heart burst like shrapnel all of a sudden. No. He had just…

"Fallon Lewis, you are arrested by the Roman senate for treachery." Duncan said. "Seize her."

Dead shocked or not; Fallon was never one to be seized.

She ran down the roads of Rome right away. The senators were mounted, and galloping was faster. But Fallon took back roads, ran in between shop allies… She saw a cart that brought food from New Rome daily, sitting in one of them. She leapt up and hauled herself onto the roof. She quickly gained the footing, using the gutters and wooden beams she could feel under the straw to her advangage. Her pace had quickly sped up to running, and whenever she reached the end, she leapt from one to the other as the guards made a lot of noise trying to keep up.

But they could see her very faintly in the dark, but she was a moving figure –a quickly moving figure- against the stars. Fallon could see it; the glow of torches around the Pomeranian lines. She let it guide her until she saw the fort walls.

"LOCK THE DOORS! LOCK THE DOORS!" Duncan yelled. Fallon didn't need the doors open; years of training got her to jump from the closest building to the guard tower.

The guard spun around to see what that was about, and her fist shot up. He stumbled back at the punch's impact, and Fallon hauled herself into his tower, before jumping over the edge on the other side. She fell and rolled once she hit the ground. There was so much more security around the gates thanks to the war- security _she_ had basically appointed to add insult to injury (or injury to insult considering how things may turn out)- that she had to be out of here fast. Her traveling cloak and the fabric of her dress snapped in the wind and momentum.

She didn't think about anything until she ran into the forest, and estimated that she was half way out of it. Then she was safe.

There were plenty of heights for her to escape to, hide, and travel amongst.

That was when she broke down. She buried her face in her knees and choked back a sob.

She had _fallen for this._ Fallen for his… His deception! The very thing they'd told her to expect from the Greeks! Mars Almighty- she'd called it love… It was an illusion, to be named better, a mind game even Fallon wouldn't have come up with. Mostly because it hurt so much.

She cried. She admitted, she cried. But she got hold of herself quickly; that made noise. And the guards wouldn't have stopped looking right away. They might have stopped for the night, because they knew Fallon would win that time; everybody knew that she'd gotten to camp by traveling at night like the slaves now did to get to safety. But the sun was rising now, and her advantage would be lost to the legionnaires that may come looking for her.

So she got up and roamed the woods. Questions danced through her mind, but mostly she was too miserable and hurt and broken to care about where she'd go, what Elisabeth and her closer friends would think, where Sebastian was, how much he'd tell the Greeks, how limited the options she was calculating were…

It had been a day, and Fallon was hungry, but not enough to go hunt something. Not with the Imperial Gold of a place she'd nearly openly betrayed had given her. Another emotion flooded her; guilt. A soldier could use her knife. A soldier who could go stab Sebastian. She hoped he died on the way back to his filthy Greek home.

Night fell, but her emotions didn't. She was sitting at the foot of a tree with her head in her knees again, trying to sleep. That's when she heard a noise, but didn't bother getting up. Let the guards find her. She was a prisoner, she deserved it. Fallon had always prized her intelligence, which meant that now, she'd assume her stupidity.

She just looked up, and saw a girl standing there. She wore trousers like a boy, which told Fallon right away that she was a fighter of some kind. Dresses were rarely worn by demigoddesses; they were hard to fight in, easily grabbed by the enemy, and they got stuck in branches, doors, anything really. Fallon hated them; she'd only worn it last night because trousers were day clothes, and if she got hers dirty, they'd know.

"Who are you, "asked the girl with the bow. "Why aren't you in the fort?"

"I was thrown out." Fallon said.

"Why were you thrown out of the demigod fort?" She seemed to catch the question on her lips. "Come on, we've got extra rations."

Fallon didn't ask any questions, but decided to follow and find out.

The girl had set up camp with a bunch of others. They lounged around a fire, and ate stew of some kind from tin bowls and laughed. All dressed in silver. They turned to look at the girl and Fallon.

"You found somebody, Phoebe?" A girl with skin like caramel and silky black hair asked.

"Yes. She's not okay, I can tell." Phoebe said. The girls immediately started taking care of Fallon all at once. She got a tin bowl as well, someone asked her if she wanted a blanket, they sat her around their warm fire, offered water…

"Thank you," Fallon said, a bit shocked by all of this attention and care she didn't think she deserved.

"You weren't in the half-blood fort? What are thee, a Greek spy?" The girl with the silky black hair asked. Fallon chocked.

"No." She said. "No I'm not Greek. I'm Roman. I got thrown out. It's the Greek's fault. His fault."

They all grimaced.

"Oh, honey, we know all about it being 'his' fault." Phoebe said.

"You… You do?" Fallon asked.

"Yeah. It hurts, doesn't it? So what was he- boyfriend, lover, fling?" Another asked. Fallon swallowed.

"A prisoner. He tricked me. He… He made me fall in love with him. And then he convinced me to help him escape. But… He doubted it would work and just… Just sold me out as a spy… In exchange of freedom…" Fallon said. Her eyes glasses over to the hunters, too tired to see and cry. They knew that look.

"That's a new low." Phoebe said her eyes suddenly sharp as knives. "How could he do that to you?"

"He was a son of Aphrodite." Fallon said.

General groan around the fire. For a split-second, Fallon actually felt like they understood. How much she hated herself for falling for it, how much she hated Sebastian, how 'hate' was another form of hurt to add onto her list…

"Well you know what? He's not allowed to take away every single chance at a home you have. So let's offer you one." Phoebe said.

"What do you mean?"

"Welcome to the Hunters of Artemis' camp," Phoebe said. "And you can be part of it every night."

"You're serious? Even if I am Roman, and your goddess is Greek?"

"You're a girl, you need help, you're willing, and you're an example of why boys are things I shan't say, less Zoë wash my mouth out." Phoebe said.

Fallon contemplated her options. She could struggle in the woods on her own, and maybe last a few days. She could go back to the fort. She could join the Greeks (_never!) _She could go into a mortal city and hope for the better. Or she could stay here. Her reputation as a strategist didn't help her much here; the choice was simple as the principle of Archimedes.

"Please," Fallon said. "What do I have to do?"

"There's an oath," the girl with the silky black hair said. "Thou must swear to accompany our lady Artemis for as long as thou live. And thou mustn't ever love a boy again."

Fallon sneered.

"Why would I _want_ it again?" She said. "I'm smarter than that. I was tricked once, but I learn from my mistakes. I want to swear this oath. Please, keep the boys out of my life. Keep _that _mistake out of my life."

* * *

><p><em>The American civil war ended on April 9<em>_th__ 1965 on the demigod side, when the Greeks' supplies were cut, and the Romans couldn't keep up their defence or tactics anymore, and the gods cut the horrifying war short._

_That was a month after Fallon Lewis was expulsed from Camp Jupiter._

* * *

><p><strong>Next chapter<strong>

It was a game. A game of hope. Whenever she was getting tired of walking, or whenever they finally got to a safe house; Father would hold her close to his skin, warm from walking, and quiz her on what their new name should be.

Because they would have a new name. They would walk past the border, they would be Canadians. Canadians weren't slaves.


	5. Ann Cotton

**Gosh, that was a while... I'm sorry, but the next chapter was hard to write, and I needed it there for the 'next chapter' thing; although I'm not too happy about the time it took, especially considering a lot of people seemed excited for this chapter. At least it's long- I think its even longer than Sabina's. **

**Forgive me? **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Percy Jackson series, the portrayal of Artemis, Zoë and Phoebe the hunters, and William Still and the Moses were two real people (and actually the later's been called a daughter of Hermes in the Percy Jackson series unless I'm confused). **

* * *

><p><span>Ann Cotton<span>

_Freeman _

_1864_

Father held her closer. "What do you think of Jackson?" He asked.

"Ann and Henry Jackson?" She asked. "No."

"Okay, what about Washington?"

"That's what Betty said her family was going to be called." Ann protested.

"You're right, I forgot." He said. "Jefferson, maybe?"

It was a game. A game of hope. Whenever she was getting tired of walking, or whenever they finally got to a safe house; Father would hold her close to his skin, warm from walking, and quiz her on what their new name should be.

Because they would have a new name. They would walk past the border, they would be Canadians. Canadians weren't slaves. Then, they wouldn't be Ann and Henry Cotton, because they wouldn't work on Cotton plants. They'd be… Well, they didn't know what their new name would be. That was the game; finding it.

"Maybe. But that makes me think of Jeffrey."

"Who is Jeffrey?" Father asked.

"The stuffed rabbit," Ann answered. "The one who always got his own cup at tea parties, with the little girl." She said careful not to all Fanny Douglas 'mistress'.

"Oh right, I remember." Father said. "Definitely not Jefferson, then."

"What was your father's last name?" Ann asked.

"I don't know, Ann. I was born at the cotton plantation, and he never said. Something from Tanzania, the place he called home." Father told her.

"Maybe our last name could be Tanzania." Ann said. Father smiled.

"Maybe. What do you think of McDonald?"

"No," Ann said. "It reminds me of Mr McDonald, the man who came all the time to deal with the Douglas'."

Actually; there was one name they knew they wouldn't have. Douglas. Because Mrs. Douglas had been nitpicky about cleaning, Fanny Douglas had thrown fits, Harry Douglas had blamed everything they didn't do on them, Tommy Douglas had been arrogant and rude, and Mr Douglas had bought Ann's grandfather to work on the cotton plant.

"You're right." Father said.

"Again," Ann teased. Father looked down at her and smiled.

"Yes," he said. "Again."

Ann stopped talking and relaxed. They'd walked for a night, and nearly the whole day even if that was dangerous in broad daylight. Their small group had stopped at the safe house, and they'd crossed a group of people that they didn't know. There was one girl named Alice that was going to go to the same village Father said he and Ann would. She'd been nice; Ann had talked to her a lot before her group had left with another conductor.

_Bless the conductors,_ Ann thought. Without them; they wouldn't have been able to sneak out of the cotton plant, or run, much less make it this far, or know where to go… If Ann ever was a free slave girl, it would be thanks to them.

The people were really mix-and-match in the various groups and stations. There was nearly nobody that they knew still there. For starters only a handful of the slaves in the plantation Ann was from had actually left.

Mama Esther, who was older than the plant itself and who knew everything from all her years of hearing and listening to Mrs. Douglas, had died during the rough road. She'd been buried outside the safe house, and it had been one of the saddest days of Ann's life; one where she buried her head in her father's chest and that even that couldn't make it go away.

Charlotte, Agnes and Baby Joseph had gotten word from the family father, who'd been burrowed out beforehand. He was more in the West of Canada, so they'd gone there to try and find him. Ann didn't dare think what would happen if they didn't.

Then there was Jesse and his sweetheart Libbie. They'd gone towards another route as well, to see if they could but themselves land and start a farm.

Then there was Francis. Nobody talked much about Francis, but they all knew that he'd been shot when they'd been leaving the plant. Just like his sister Easter. They were barely out of Maryland when the gunshots pierced the air. They weren't even at the first safe house in Camden, Delaware.

The only one left was Owen Cotton, and he wasn't doing so well. Ann watched him curled up on the floor by himself. He'd always been by himself. Since Francis and Easter had died, that is. In Camden, Wilmington, everywhere in between, and now in Philadelphia; he was alone. They were in a free state now, but he was still just as alone and sad.

A man walked up to Ann and her father and knelt in front of them. Ann frowned. He was a black man. They'd never had a black stationmaster before; a black conductor, yes, but...

"My name's William," he said holding out his hand. "William Still."

"I'm Henry, and this is my daughter Ann. Pleasure, Mr Still, thank you so much for the help." Father said, shaking the hand.

"It's an honour to help," he said. "And please, call me Will."

"Are you the stationmaster?" Father asked the question on Ann's mind. He didn't look tired or dirty, he couldn't be a runaway like she and Father and all the other people here.

"No, I'm not. The house belongs to some friends of mine. But I am free. Which is what I need to talk to you about. Look, the next step is New York."

"New York!" Ann gasped. William Still looked at her.

"You like New York?" He asked.

"I… I heard one of Harry Douglas' lessons… Or two…" She ducked her head in shame because that wasn't right on her behalf.

"Don't be ashamed. You should know how to read and write. I know I got the chance, and who knows; maybe so will you."

Ann smiled. Going to school? It wasn't like her old masters' education; but that still looked promising.

"One day you'll read, Ann, I'll make sure." Dad said, squeezing her shoulder.

William and Father talked some more about transport and this and that and news from different places.

Ann got up and slowly glided away before her father could get to the point he wanted to etch towards. Their family. She looked around to see where she could escape. They were in someone's house -a real house, and they'd been told to stay in the basement; but blankets and even furniture had been moved for them. But the basement didn't have a lot of space to move around, even if it was big. She didn't want to hear Father talk about family, and she didn't want to see him maybe even cry. Because if Father dried, Ann would most certainly lose it as well; and she tried not to cry. She tried very hard.

Ann walked towards Owen. She sat down on the couch, her hands in her lap.

"Hi," she said. He looked up at her.

"Hello Ann," he answered.

"We're nearly in Canada." Ann said to try and make him smile. He used to smile a lot at the cotton plant. He made them smile by bellowing silly songs, or making faces, or saying boring jokes he heard from people here and there. She wanted to bring that back.

"Then what, Ann?" He asked her.

"A better life. No more of the cotton, the work in the sun, or whip or any of it." She said. She knew every scar Owen had; and she knew why each of them were there. Usually it was the little boy, Harry, who would force Owen the groom to take out a horse under penalty of complaint to his father, their 'master'. Then he'd fall and it'd be Owen's fault. Or he would go out in the forest where he wasn't allowed to go and get wet- or other pity lies. Sometimes it was something else. Either way it was never Owen's fault.

"That's for you," Owen said. "What about me?"

"You? What do you mean what about you?"

"I can't read. I can't write. I can't count. How am I going to find a job for this better life?" Owen asked.

"You're young and fit. And the conductors at the safe house take care of us. They'll find you a home, or a job." Ann said, trying to be perky.

Owen sighed.

"Maybe I should let the police and government capture me. They'll send me back to the cotton plant, but I can deal with it until the war's over. Think about it; the North is winning."

"No!" Ann gasped. "No, you can't do that! Owen- that's horrible- do you have any idea what they would do to you?"

"They've already done everything." Owen said. "Ann, you're an optimist. I love that about you. I love a lot of things about you. But sometimes you've just got to be able to give up and tell that sometimes you really _are _born unlucky."

"I'm not born unlucky, and neither are you." Ann said. "Come on, Owen. Look at that man. The one talking to my father. See? He can read and write and he's born free. Wouldn't you want that? Well, if we all give up, that wouldn't happen to anyone! And then you ran away and Easter and Francis tried for nothing, and so did you and all these people!"

Owen was quiet for a second.

"You're so young. You still have options. I don't."

"Make yourself options," she said. "And I'm only four years younger than you, thank you very much."

"Ann," someone called before Owen could say anything.

"I'll be right back. Don't you tell them you want to go home. I mean, to the cotton plant. Don't you give up." Ann said strictly. Owen smiled.

"You scare me more than Mrs. Douglas sometimes." He said. Ann smiled and went to go see Father.

"Come with me, it's nearly supper time and I want you to sit close." He said, holding out a hand she didn't need to hold, but held onto anyways.

"It was a pleasure meeting with you, Henry." William said. "Bless you; get to Canada safely. You're leaving for New York tomorrow."

"Thank you again," Henry said. William turned to Ann.

"You may be in a free state, but remember; you aren't free yet. If the government, the police, or bounty hunters catch you; they have to bring you back to Maryland by law." He said. Ann nodded and he smiled.

"You're a bright girl." He said.

They filed up the stairs, and the others followed.

They were in the kitchen, eating at a table. A woman ladled soup into Ann's bowl and the smell was so warm and rich Ann nearly started drooling.

"Thank you," she said. The woman smiled at Ann and nodded her head.

"No problem, dear." It was one of the first times a white woman, or a white person, had been that polite with Ann. She'd learnt to trust them- or at least some of them. Because some of them had consciences, cared for everyone no matter the colour, and wanted to help. This family, giving out their home for others like them, was only one example.

Ann saw Owen at the end of the table; the biggest table Ann had ever sat at. He was in his own bubble. She also saw the woman's family; two little girls, a boy and a father, sitting around here and there and looking at them with curiosity; like they wanted to know more about these people.

"Did you walk a lot?" One of the little girls asked Ann. She snapped her attention towards her

"Yes," Ann said. "We did a lot of walking."

"Do your feet hurt?" Her sister asked. They both had long and soft-looking blonde curls to their waist -one of them wore it in braids- and their eyes were bright blue.

"Not really," Ann said. "It's just a bit worse than work; but you get used to it."

"Do you want a bandage?" The little boy asked. Ann smiled. They were so sweet!

"No, save the bandages for those who are actually hurt." She said.

"My name is Jemima, and this is Edith." The first to talk said. "And that's Hamilton. Hamilton, Jemima and Edith Culligan."

"Hello. I'm Ann."

"Ann what?" Jemima asked, cocking her head.

"I don't know," Ann said. "But it's not Cotton."

* * *

><p>During the meal Ann ate, and eventually she turned to look at Father, who was talking to William, who was eating at the safe house as well.<p>

"Father," she said when she spotted Owen, who wasn't talking to anyone. He turned towards her and swallowed what he had in his mouth.

"What is it, Ann?" He asked.

"Owen… Owen's hesitating right now. He doesn't have many places to go." She said. Father frowned. "He's giving up! He doesn't think it'll be better!"

"But of course it will," Father said.

"I was talking to him and he says no. He has nowhere to go. I was thinking… There are two of us. Can we at least bring him to Canada?" Ann said. Father didn't say anything at first.

"I know he's a boy, and I know he's older, but he has to, Father. Easter and Francis are dead. It's like Mother and Jack for us. He needs help. We have each other at least."

Father didn't say anything.

"Father?" Ann asked. She wondered if she'd said the wrong face. Every time she smelled flowers now it hurt, because that was her mother's scent, from staying around Mrs. Douglas and her perfumed room too much. And whenever she saw someone who didn't talk right, like a child, she thought of Jack who'd only been babbling when he and Mother had been sold to another plantation in California, on the other side of the world. But it hurt more for Father, Ann knew it. He'd lost Mother and Jack, and if Ann hurt him or left, that would be everyone.

"I didn't want children, because you'd be born into slavery." He said slowly. "But I met your mother and had you and Jack; and I wouldn't have it any other way. But you were still born into slavery."

"Okay." Ann said. Father wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

"You keep on giving even if you don't have anything, Ann. And that's a precious gift."

* * *

><p>Ann walked faster.<p>

"Are you okay?" She asked Owen. Owen looked down at her and smiled. He was _so much taller._

"Yeah," he smiled. He smiled a lot more since Father had asked him to join them. They'd cross Lake Erie together, go into Canada and the three of them could work. They'd all worked their whole lives; surely working a bit more for _money_ (at that!) wouldn't be harder. And Father could vote -so would Owen in a few years-, and own land, and they'd all be free and safe.

If that wasn't something to boost his morale, then Ann might just give up too.

"Hey, why did the turkey refuse to cross the road?" Owen asked.

"I don't know," Ann said. "Why?"

"To prove it wasn't a chicken," Owen grinned. The grin made her laugh more than the joke.

"You're so corny!" She protested.

"Maybe. Elijah told me that one. I'll go catch up with him," he said. His pace quickened so he could catch up to the conductor- the one taking them from one safe house (which was called a 'station' like a 'station master', a bit like a train) to the next.

Ann dropped her pace and fell back with Father.

"Hey," he said. "Are you okay, Ann?"

"I'm fine." She said.

"I was thinking; do you like the name 'Joseph'? I heard it a lot."

"Henry Joseph would sound like a long name, not like a name and a last name." Ann said. "We need to have both."

"Right," Father nodded.

"Maybe Culligan- that's what the little girls told me their names were and that family helped us." Ann suggested.

"Ann and Henry Culligan," Father mused. "Hmm… It sounds okay, but there's something about it…"

"Okay, no." She said. They had to both love it.

They were walking across the Appalachian Mountains. It was harder than the rest; but their conductor was nice. He'd said his name was Elijah Johnson; and he and Owen were exchanging bad jokes.

"Maybe Johnson?"

"Not like Elijah."

"What about Tubman; like the Moses?"

"She's not the one who freed us from the plant," Father said. Harriet Tubman; the slave who saved other slaves. If they were going to take a name they knew, they should take The Moses' surname.

"But she saved a million others." Ann defended.

"Maybe. Henry and Ann Tubman?"

"Never mind," Ann said. Father laughed. She liked seeing the smile lines around his eyes have some kind of point. It didn't happen all the time.

The sun was down, the stars were up. Ann felt a world apart from Maryland, but that wasn't a bad thing. A world apart wouldn't be far enough. She would have to actually touch the stars to be far enough. Maybe if she read and learnt she could figure out how to get to the stars. The idea made her smile.

They were in a deserted spot in the woods, and the coast was clear. Or at least it was _meant_ to be clear.

Suddenly there was a gunshot and one in their group fell to the ground.

The panic came out just as fast and loudly as the gunshot.

People jumped from the woods. Someone took Ann's arm, but Father jumped at them. They rolled a bit and she watched him throw a punch before someone else got him.

"Run Ann!" He yelled. There was another gunshot and she saw Elijah drop dead. People were being tied by ropes, and there were more bounty hunters than slaves.

_No..._

She had no choice, she ran. Someone jumped at her, and she nearly hit him, when she realised the person was pushing her forwards, not holding her back.

"Run!" Owen said. She heard her father scream something.

"I will be a free man!"

Then another gunshot and she turned around to see Father, tangled in a net like a worthless fish. And was it… The netting was… It was slowly becoming… Red…

"No!" She screamed.

"Come on Ann!" Owen pushed her into the woods and they ran. Ann focused on that right now. She forced her mind to ignore the moaning and tears of pain of her heart. At some point Ann tugged Owen into a bush, their feet in the creek and they listened. People ran past them, but they were safe.

Ann shook like a leaf and Owen drew her closer, her face in his chest.

"Don't cry," he whispered. "Don't cry. They'll find us."

"I can't stop it," she said feeling them build up in a way no damn could hold. Her mother, her baby brother, and now her father; all dead; dead to her. Because they were born into slavery…

"You didn't give up on me," he whispered. "I'm not giving up on you."

He kissed her forehead and warmth spread through Ann. He'd kissed her forehead. Ann never thought anybody would ever kiss her.

"Okay," she said.

"We'll have to be quiet. Let's follow the stream." He said. "Away from here."

They waddled quietly, and Ann made sure her tears were silent. Because her father would never be a free man, or a McDonald, or a Jefferson, or anything ever again… Now he was just dead, and they probably wouldn't burry him properly.

"You can't go back," Owen said. "You taught me that Ann. Come on, smile in the storm. Sing in the rain. Light a candle in the dark. That's what you do." He encouraged.

Ann gulped. Father had told her that it was her best gift to sing in the rain and smile in the storm. To give when she had nothing to give. Well the truth was, that when Ann had Father around, she always had something. Someone to go to, someone who cared... Even if she didn't have a real name, or a real home... She had Father.

"At least there's you too." Ann tried to be optimistic even if the word -the fanciest word she knew- was really far in her head now. "We can find another safe house and latch on to another group. They'd let us. You really saved me, Owen."

"You're worth saving more than Canada is worth reaching," Owen said. Ann stopped walking when she realised what he'd said, and turned around. "Oh God, did I say that at loud?" He said.

Ann giggled.

"Yes." She said.

"Oh, sorry."

"It's okay," she said. She kissed him on the cheek to repay the favour, and they kept waddling through. They weren't out of the woods yet (literally too). They were still in trouble. Any second now…

"FREEZE!" They spun around and saw bounty hunters.

"Well, well, well. We were missing a few after all." One said. Owen stepped in front of Ann.

"How sweet; we were missing _lovebirds _at that." Another said. They sniggered, but Ann stood tall. Maybe they were lovebirds, maybe they weren't; she was too confused to make sense of anything. But _they were going to be free_.

Owen tapped on her arm and she suddenly knew that that meant that they should run. And so Ann raced out of the creek and up the ditch; holding onto trees, and propping her feet on rocks to climb the slope.

"Hey! Stop right there!" Ann didn't even consider it an option. Guns started firing and she heard a cry. She turned around and saw Owen falling into the ditch, two men running towards him.

"Owen!" She yelled.

"Don't you give up!" He yelled before another bullet shot, and she didn't hear a thing on his behalf anymore. And so Ann swallowed her tears and ran. Because that was the last wish of the two most important people in her life after all.

She weaved through trees and heard people running after her but she kept at it.

Suddenly she was grabbed by the arm.

"NO!" She yelled. "No don't kill me leave me alone!"

"We're not trying to-"

"Don't bring me back! Let me go!" Ann kicked to try and get them free. It was suddenly a madness; she _had _to get out, she _had _to find her way out, she _had _to get to Canada even more than before…

"No! No, don't worry, we won't-"

"If death is the cost of freedom than write that on my grave!" Ann yelled. She suddenly nailed whoever was holding her in the chest and she managed to scramble back and run, but she tripped on a foot, and got dragged in the trees.

"NO!" She yelled again.

"No, no, no, no, no, don't worry, don't worry- we're on your side, we want to help you!" Someone said. "My name's Elissa, please don't scream, we need to hide."

Ann froze and looked towards her, she realised that it _was _a girl. And the girl was maybe only a year older than Ann was.

"Okay? Will you please let us?" Ann didn't know what to say, she'd just been surrounded, and stripped of the last bit of family she clung onto… She saw other girls that were hidden in the trees and shadows around her; including one just a bit younger than Ann, with silver assets to her clothes that shone in the moonlight and… bows? Arrows?

"Freedom has no price," that girl suddenly said, "And certainly not death." The sound of her voice immediately calmed down Ann. It was more mature than she looked, but something about it wrapped around Ann like a blanket and fed her warm food. She felt safe with this girl around. "Tell me- where was the rest of your group?"

Ann whimpered and looked at her feet.

"Dead," she said.

"Damn it!" A girl swore. "We were patrolling the Appalachian Mountains and all the usual roads just in case something like this happened!" Sh said. "We were changing shifts when it happened- damn it!"

"Kateri; go run a message to Zoë and the other group, and tell her there's been a massacre," the girl said. The word made Ann shiver. "Send a few wolves after these men who dare call themselves 'hunters' and seek my protection when they do the things they do. Girls; install camp for the night. Ann, come with me, I will clean your wound."

"Yes Milady," the girls said one after the other. It seemed odd to call a girl 'Milady', especially considering some of them were older; but Ann never questioned the respect she owed somebody. She'd been forced to call bratty children and lavish people 'Master' and 'Mistress' her whole life. This girl who'd saved her… Ann would call her 'Mistress' voluntarily.

A few girls unclipped leather collars from big white shapes that Ann guessed were wolves, some others started setting up camp, another ran off into the night… Ann followed the girl to an upturned log.

"You… You know my name…" Ann babbled, holding out her injured arm.

"I know every girl's name." She said. "I know every maiden who seeks protection and needs it." She said, unloading her gear. Ann noticed it was mostly a bow, a leather bag full of arrows… "But I sense you don't know mine," she said taking bandages from her satchel.

"I don't." Ann said. She almost added an apology.

"My name is Artemis," she said. "I doubt you know who I am."

"Pardon me, Milady." She said. Artemis looked up.

"You call me that fast."

"I've always been told to treat people with respect."

"Tell me Ann," Artemis said, "Does that include everybody? Or is that especially about white men and women?"

Ann looked down.

"Yes, it was."

"Where are you from?" Artemis asked. "And don't worry- I wouldn't dream of sending you back."

Ann hesitated for a second. "Maryland. The Douglas Cotton Plant." Artemis nodded.

"Who was with you? How many people in your group?" She asked again.

"There were ten of us, eleven with the conductor who brought us from place to place- but only three from the Douglas'. The others came from somewhere further South. Florida, they said." Ann said.

"And how many are running in the woods right now looking for help?" Artemis asked. Ann looked down at her lap, as the pressure of a wrapped bandage formed on her arm.

"Nobody." Ann said. Artemis looked up.

"Everyone died." She said coldly.

"Well, some of them were just captured..."

"No Ann, at this point of the war slaves aren't returned anymore, they're shot." The girl said. "Did everybody die?"

"Everyone died, then." Ann nodded. "My father, my friend Owen, the couple from Florida with the baby coming…" She bit her lip.

"What about your mother?"

"I don't know where she is. She and my brother were sold." Ann said.

"I see. You were on your way to Canada, weren't you? To Rochester, past Lake Erie, and into Canada…"

"Yes. My Father said that in Free states we could still be captured and sent back to the Douglas'. He said that the Canadians didn't send us back. If we made it there, we were safe."

"He was right." Artemis said. "The world is slowly gaining a conscience; although too late for some."

Tears prickled Ann's eyes. Father, Owen, Mother, Jack, Elijah, Mama Esther, Easter, Francis, anybody and everybody else…

An arm wrapped around her shoulder. She looked up and saw Artemis through tears.

"You're going to stay with us tonight. You'll be safe, and warm, and we have food and water. Tomorrow we'll see, okay?"

"Okay." Ann managed to say. "Thank you so much." Her shoulders squeezed and Artemis got up.

"Vita," Artemis called. A girl in the same blouse and trousers (men's clothes- how odd!) came and stood next to Artemis. Ann saw a bow and a quiver on her shoulder, a knife in her belt, and a handle sticking out from her waist, even in the dark. Her hair was wound in a tight braid.

"Yes Milady?" She said it strictly like a soldier.

"Bring Ann by the fire. You are in charge of Camp until Zoë arrives; keep her warm, safe, and see if you can explain to her."

"Yes Milady. Where will you be? What will I tell the other gods if they ask?" Vita asked.

_Gods? _She'd only ever heard of one God, one God who hadn't saved a million of his people. _Gods? _

"Tell them I'm hunting hunters. Bounty hunters." Artemis said. Ann choked out another sob.

* * *

><p>Vita turned to look at Ann, lying on one of her arm.<p>

"Are you okay?" She whispered.

"Yes." Ann said.

"No you're not." Vita said. "Because it hurts not to have control of your life. In a way; nobody ever has control of their lives. But it just hurts when someone else does."

Ann wondered how Vita knew. She looked down.

"It's not that. I never thought I'd be free. I'd dealt with that. But I opened the wound, and now… I was so close. My father was so close. Owen too." Vita lifted her sleeve.

"Look at this," she said showing Ann the back of her hands. Ann squinted, and through the moon and starlight coming in through the thin tent walls, she saw an eagle and a name she couldn't read.

"What does it say?"

"Sabinus Modius Aquiline," Vita said. "He was my master. The tattoos showed that I belonged to him. If I ever tried to run away, they'd see the tattoos on my hands and send me back. I also have them on my legs."

"You… You were a slave?"

"For the first fourteen years of my life." Vita said.

"But… But you're white…"

"That doesn't matter. Well, it didn't. Not where I was from. They tattoed anybody who was my kind of slave, a gladiator. It meant we fought to the death, and if you weren't good enough you died then and there." Vita said. Ann gasped and held her breath. Fight to the death? She'd been picking cotton. It didn't make her work sound any easier, but it was a new kind of brutal.

"It's an old tradition that died out, and if I ever tried to free myself from it; I'd be tattooed with letters that told the whole world I was a fugitif. FUG." Vita said. "But I'm free now. So will you be."

The whole night, Ann was twitchy. She kept expecting someone to come out of nowhere and call her a runaway, and to drag her back to Maryland. She'd been whipped only once in her whole life- and it had really hurt. She'd cried nearly the whole night, and Mother had stayed up with her all of it. She wondered if it'd happen to her again. Well, the whipping; she knew her mother wasn't coming back to her.

In the morning, the girls pulled the blades of knives along rocks for sharpening, came back to camp with arms full of firewood, stirred something in a big metal bowl, or shot arrows into trees and brought them back. Another group of girls must've come back in the middle of the night because more tents were pitched. A pack of white wolves that Ann had been told not to fear rough played around camp or slept alongside- and unless it was her imagination, birds of prey like eagles and falcons were perched in the trees.

"Ann, this is Fallon." Said the girl Elissa, who'd taken to showing Ann around. "She joined earlier this year, when she stopped fighting." Ann froze as Fallon offered a weak smile and a hand for a handshake.

"What side?" Ann asked suddenly very, very afraid. Because if this girl was South... And Ann was there...

"Neither of the ones you're thinking of," Fallon said. She turned back towards the fire, where she was drying a blanket that'd stayed out for the night.

Suddenly it fell quiet and Ann looked up to see that Artemis was walking back into camp.

"Good morning," she said. There were a few replies.

"Has the hunt been successful, Milady?" A girl that Ann had identified as Zoë said.

"Very." Artemis said coldly. She took her quiver off her back and propped it on a tree. There were barely any arrows left.

"I've had to stop by a safe house to give Harriet news on the group from Philadelphia; and drop off some meat as well."

"Moses?" Ann blurted. Eyes turned to her and she wanted to become small, small, small until you couldn't see her without eye glasses.

"Yes," Artemis said. "Harriet Tubman as her real name. My hunters and I try to help with the Underground Railroad as much as we can. But for now, breakfast: we can make other plans later on."

Someone gave Ann a tin bowl with porridge in it and the chattering lasted throughout the whole meal. Girls were laughing and joking, or boasting about shots they'd made. Ann wasn't in the mood, and she could barely keep up with what they were saying anyways.

Finally everybody put their bowls down.

"Ann," Artemis said. "I've been talking to Zoë, Vita and Phoebe about your future."

"The thing is…" Phoebe said. "We could bring you to Canada."

"You could?" Ann perked up. She'd learn how to read like William Still, like Father had told her. Yes, yes, yes!

"We could," Elissa nodded. "But… You're alone. You'd be stuck roaming around, poor, or in a convent or orphanage."

Ann looked down at her knees. She didn't even have Owen. She was alone, Elissa said it. And it was cold and hard, but so very true.

"You don't have to be alone," Zoë said. "You can travel with us."

"With you?" Ann asked.

Artemis nodded. "The girls have explained a bit about who I am?"

"They said you were a… a goddess…" Ann said. "And that you protected every girl, even if I was a slave and even if I was black."

"Yes." Artemis nodded. "I do. I always have, and I always will. Ann, I can't force you to do anything… I will help you on any path you pick. I will guide you to Canada myself if that is what you wish. But after that you'd be alone."

Ann looked down at her hands. She was. She was alone.

But maybe this kind of freedom wasn't bad either. She thought of Vita, who'd talked about her master- always a sore subject- just last night to make her feel better. Or how soft and gentle Elissa had been last night, and how she'd explained everything. Or how Zoë looked automatically like someone to look up to…

"I don't want to be alone," Ann said. "But I don't want to go back to Maryland either. I want to be free. And you all look free and happy…"

"You'll join?" Elissa smiled.

"Yes." Ann nodded.

* * *

><p><em>Roughly 143 years later<em>

"So what's your name?" The new girl asked Ann. Ann looked at her; silver jewels, black clothes… She was the lieutenant. She didn't look like royalty like Zoë had; but Ann felt compelled to follow her already.

"Ann," she said. She'd never gone by any other name. Not 'Cotton', not 'Johnson' or 'Washington' like she and Father had thought. It didn't feel… right to have a last name if Father wasn't there to approve it too.

"Ann who?" Thalia asked.

Suddenly it hit Ann like a bullet; a 100 or so year late bullet, but still. A last name so perfect, she couldn't believe she and Father had missed it. She was so sure he'd approve. He'd have picked her up and spun her around and called her by it after they'd found it.

She hadn't forgotten Father. She hadn't forgotten his last words either; perhaps why the idea came up.

"Ann Freeman."

* * *

><p><strong>Next Chapter<strong>

Now it was like Lana _had _to go to the surface to touch the air and prove to her sisters that she could too go in and out of the city, zip past coral reefs, and fish that didn't often wander through Poseidon's city (although they all came around eventually) and shipwrecks that would take their breaths away.


	6. Lana

**Wow, everyone seemed to really like the last chapter! I just wanted to answer one question about slaves' names.**

**Generally a slave would take his owner's name (in Ann's case it would've been 'Douglas'), but sometimes the last name reflected the kind of work the slave was forced to do (so in this case 'Ann Cotton' because of the cottom plant). And once freed, generally a slave would take his or her master's name, but sometimes people would adopt the name from a US history figure, like Washington or Jefferson and so forth. Another popular one was 'Freeman'. I just thought that Ann's hatred for the Douglas and the cotton plant ran too deep for her to call herself Ann Douglas. **

**Anyways, here's a happier chapter that I'm not too sure about; but at least it made watching 'Barbie in a Mermaid Tail' worth it. I have a little sister... I broke the chronological order with this one because it happens before Ann and Fallon; but you're just going to have to ignore that.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the sea gods, some of the hunters, and how their leader is portrayed.**

* * *

><p><span>Lana <span>

_1837_

The court of Poseidon was alive with life. Well, more than it usually was; which was saying a lot. Lana's older sister beat her to the question, though.

"What's the matter, Papa?" Tria asked.

"A son of Poseidon is around," he frowned. "But that doesn't mean that our Lord will tolerate any foolishness."

"Not more than usual," Lana mumbled. They lived in a court where everything seemed to be energised and active and happy. Possibly the salt water, possibly the way the sun filtered through the water to reach to the city and palace. Poseidon was a fair and well minded god, thankfully with a sense of humour. The coral city was, in Lana's opinion, the best place to live; forget the land where the gods rivalled and humans fought and destroyed one another! Also because Lana had no legs- but spare the details.

Papa shot her a look.

"Yes, well…" He said. "I must go; Delphin has requested the army."

"What for, Papa?" Elle asked.

"I don't know," He said.

"But last time the army of the ocean was summoned…" Tris said nervously.

"Our father will be _fine,_" Lana told her sisters. None of them looked sure, but that was fine. They never took Lana, or any words from her mouth, seriously.

"I appreciate your trust," he said kissing the top of Lana's head. "Don't wander too far from the city."

"No we won't," her sisters said.

"Lana?" Father asked.

"I won't either." She promised. Father smiled.

"Good. I want six safe daughters, and I want them to stay that way."

And with that he swam away.

"You heard him, Lana. No running out today." Cora, the eldest, said.

"I never run out!" Lana defended.

"Oh, so what is it you call it? Exploring?"

"It _is _exploring! The court is beautiful, and I love it, and I love its safety; but you wouldn't _believe _the fish out there!" Lana said.

"I think you are foolish." Ray said.

"Ray, be nice." Cora scorned. She turned towards Lana. "We do believe the fish out there but… But there are also humans. And humans are bad."

"I don't go look at the humans," Lana said.

"Maybe, but it's the humans looking at you that we're afraid of." Cora said, gently pushing a strand of hair behind Lana's ear.

"I bet one of them has already seen that green tail of yours." Ray said.

"Have not! I never… I never go close to the surface…" Lana said. "The light burns."

"Well don't you ever even think about it!" Tris said.

"Imagine how disgraced Papa would be!" Lilas said. Lana balled up her fists.

"I would never disgrace Papa!"

"And what could happen…" Elle said.

"I would never let anything happen!" Lana said, her

"Fishermen…" Ray started.

"Shut up Ray!" Lana snarled her teeth, "I wouldn't get caught by something as dishonourable as those!"

"Sisters!" Cora said to cover all voices, putting a hand around Lana's wrist, and shoving Ray away with the other. "Why are we having this discussion? It's quite unnecessary considering Lana isn't even going out of the city! Not today, not any day. Isn't that-"

But Lana had already swum away in anger.

* * *

><p>A fisherman. A fisherman! They relied on chance and chance alone to even catch a fish- why would they ever catch a merperson? Much less <em>her! <em>How insulting!

Now it was like Lana _had _to go to the surface to touch the air and prove to her sisters that she could too go in and out of the city, zip past coral reefs, and fish that didn't often wander through Poseidon's city (although they all came around eventually) and shipwrecks that would take their breaths away. All that without a _fisherman _even thinking about her_. _So Lana spiked up and swam towards the surface.

The pressure became less and less heavy as they zoomed up, and more and more fish appeared; and they weren't only there because of the magical protection any creature going to Poseidon's court benefited from. The lack of water pressure made Lana feel a bit lightheaded; but she held on. She had to. She had to keep going. She had to touch the surface.

The light became brighter, and Lana's eyes hurt. She felt like they were burning with that thing that humans called _fire- _although she'd only heard rumours about it. It was worse than Greek fire and somehow… More natural…

But Lana kept swimming. She actually liked the way her dark scales shone in that weird light. They didn't look so hard anymore, and they even looked a bit green. Her hair looked lighter than it was, like driftwood. She only saw her true colours inside the houses or palace usually; this was quite nice.

Suddenly she was close. So close. So unbelievably close. So incredibly close. She started by bringing her fist out of water. It was immediately cold; the ocean was warm, but outside the air seemed to move, like there were water currents in it. Except cold water currents… Was that what the wind was?

Yes; Lana knew all about air, Papa had told her that that was why she couldn't ever go to the surface. And so she filled her lungs with water, and with a flap of her tail, Lana shot out of the water.

Suddenly her whole head was cold. The temperature changed from outside the surface to under it. Something was moving through the air and it was bringing her hair in this direction and that. _That _was the wind, she was sure.

She looked around with sprawled eyes and gasped. The light came from one point in the whole sky; a big round thing that hurt to look at. And the light shone onto the water, like it bounced off from pearls except a million times brighter. It bounced off the water and made it glitter like Elle's tail, the one all the boys gawked at and called beautiful.

There was a sound like churning power; and Lana soon realised it was the waves. An odd fish tore through the sky and squawked. Except it wasn't a fish. It… It had wings…

The sky was endless blue, like the tinge of her skin, except once again; brighter. Everything was brighter here… Except for the fish in the sky; those were white.

Lana had no idea how long she'd stayed up there, looking around and gawking at what she saw. It'd been a while by the time that big brown house tore through the water. It was made out of wood, with big and proud white sails like the gowns Lady Amphitrite wore once or twice. Then it clicked with an image Lana had already seen; a ship. Except not broken and sunk and underwater; it was a real ship. And music came from it, music that Lana had never heard before. The instruments mustn't be merfolk instruments. They must be human. They sounded so beautiful; there was something like a flute, and another that Lana didn't know. And the sound of clapping; merfolk always clapped when there was music too.

But then the ship got closer and Lana remembered something.

"_And what could happen…" Elle said._

"_Fishermen…"_

"_Imagine how disgraced Papa would be!" Lilas said. _

She gasped and dove back underwater, kicking her tail and motioning her eyes as fast as she could. The water's pressure on her came back, and her eyes didn't hurt anymore once the darkness returned. She could see _perfectly _underwater.

But she couldn't see what she'd seen at the surface.

* * *

><p>She walked into Han's bookshop. Long pieces of seaweed with tiny black letters, wrapped around driftwood; waiting to be unfolded and read. Lana wondered if humans had books like that.<p>

"Hello little Lana," Han said. "Did your father send you to get something?"

"No," Lana said. "I just… Came in."

"Your eyes are swimming with questions like fish in the reef," the old Merman told her.

"I was wondering if humans have books like ours," Lana said absent-mindedly.

"That I don't know," Han said. "But follow me."

The building was a tower, high and high and lined with books. Han brought her higher than Lana had ever been and he unclasped a leather harness over a slot, and took out the book the harness was holding down.

"This book is on humans," he said. "On their ways and beasts and trinkets."

Lana's eyes brightened. There would be more pictures of the ship in there.

"Can I borrow it, Han?" Lana asked- for Han borrowed books to anybody who asked politely. "Please."

Han's hand twitched and he hesitated.

"Not this one Lana," he said. "I rather you not read this one."

* * *

><p>"Hey Lana," someone said. She turned around and saw Leon, a merman she'd been watching from a distance for a while. A good, <em>long <em>while.

"Hey, Lana, we're going to play at a party tonight. At the house where all the clownfish drift around; apparently even Prince Triton's going to be there. Did you want to come?"

Lana could already see it; the music flowing through the water, the currents moving as everyone danced and moved and chased friends, or as sweethearts tried to sneak away…

But then again; she was stuck thinking about the instruments from that ship, and how in the air something else made everything move, and made her hair fly all over the place.

"N-No thanks Leon." Lana said. "Thanks anyways, but I have to go somewhere." She said.

She missed the surface too much; she had to go back up.

* * *

><p>Lana had been helping at the palace today to try and earn a sand dollar. With that she might <em>just might <em>buy the book Han didn't want to lend. Lana assumed that Han knew all about the humans' incredibly gadgets, and he wouldn't lend the book to her because he saw how valuable those pages and pages of tiny scripts were.

She was moving past the throne room's door to go bring the Chef the food he needed for the evening meal, when she heard her name. _Lana. _

She couldn't just keep going, she froze right in front of it and listened some more.

"-What do you mean my Lana is surface-sick?" She heard someone say. Her heart froze. It was Papa.

"It's in the way she looks at everything under the ocean, Balton." She heard the other man address her Father. Oh gosh, it was Poseidon! Lord Poseidon himself! Neptune and Nereus- what was that about?

"She's seen both worlds, Balton, and she hasn't gotten enough of the first. She longs for it. She wants to see more, and know more about it. That's why she hasn't been interacting as much as she used to; noting here interests her anymore. Han the bookman told me she stops to look at scrolls on humans all the time; a scroll most merfolk never touch."

"Neptune and Nereus, I knew she was an explorer and bless her for it… But I thought Cora watched her when I couldn't. Oh, why her?" She could hear the sorrow in Papa's voice for a second and she felt guilty. She should have gone to the party; she shouldn't have touched the books.

But in a way, as selfish as it made her sound; everything Lord Poseidon said was… True. True about Lana, and what she was trying to touch…

"It's not a question of 'why her' Balton, and you've gone nothing wrong," Poseidon promised gently. "Just as some gods prefer the sea or the ocean, some people prefer the land."

"But Lana's a mermaid!"

"A very special mermaid if she can look at differences and love it like it's her own element," Poseidon said soothingly. "I, for one, have always preferred the sea. But Lana… Lana wants land."

"I love her." Balton said. "I really do. She's the most like her mother out of all of her sisters; her adventurous streak, her curiosity…"

"I remember Adelaide, she was wonderful company." Poseidon said.

"I got lucky," Papa said. He laughed half-heartedly a bit. "How do I give Lana what she wants?"

"I don't know." Lord Poseidon said. "It's only happened once or twice and… Well…"

"What did you do then, my Lord?" Papa asked.

"Nothing. There was nothing to be done for them."

"You mean they..?" Papa left the words hanging.

"It's a form of depression," Poseidon explained. "Try as they might; all of them drove themselves insane."

Lana froze. She wasn't… She wasn't…

"How do I get her to the surface?" Papa asked. Lana listened as hard as she could but someone touched her shoulder. She jumped and turned to see Lady Amphitrite. For a second she was scared the Queen would drag Lana into the throne room and call her out in front of her husband and Lana's father. But she only put a finger to her mouth and with the other she steered Lana away from the door towards the direction she was meant to go in. Lana nodded vigorously, curtsied, and swam off; the new information whizzing through her head faster than she swam.

* * *

><p>Lana forgot about the conversation she heard at the palace. All she knew was that the seaweed book was gone when she went to go buy it, and that Cora, Elle and all the other sisters seemed to have closed in around her like a pack of piranhas, and she could barely go out of the city anymore; much less the surface. She began to drift away from all of them. She knew she was, but there was nothing to do.<p>

She went back to Han's the bookman's to see if another copy of the book was being made; but so little people cared about the wonderful surface. Han wouldn't find it worth it, he was probably glad enough to have gotten rid of one, and Lana wouldn't ask. Just in case he talked to Papa.

She'd always been a daydreamer, but now it was just plain bad. She couldn't keep her attention on anything.

She'd refused a swim with Leon because she'd suddenly realised that his tail wasn't as bright blue as she'd thought it was; not as bright blue as the sky stretching above the surface had been…

She was slowly drifting away and she knew it; but maybe drifting away from the sea wouldn't be so bad. It hurt whenever she looked at a fish or a chariot pulled by dolphins; because she thought of those winged fish and ships. Blue was the palest colour in the world now. Currents felt awkward because they were unlike the wind. Everything around her has a surface equivalent that was much, much greater, and much more new.

Then one night, Papa shook her awake. His kind grey eyes looked down on her.

"Shh, Lana." He whispered. "Come with me."

And so she got out of bed and tried to ask what about; but Papa hushed her.

They swam to the palace, in the dead of night; but the palace was still awake at night. Lana suspected it was just the guards, but they were lead to the throne room, and there waited Lord Poseidon, and someone Lana had never seen. She was also the oddest looking thing Lana had ever seen; she had no tail, but it looked like… Like some kind of arms with the oddest hands instead, and there were two of them. It was like Lord Poseidon's human form! Except she was much smaller, and obviously a girl human. What was it called- legs? Something like that; a word nobody ever used because nobody ever needed to use it.

Lana bowed, but the sea king waved it away.

"Balton, Lana; I think I've found a way to grant you both your wish," he said. And his bright green eyes twinkled, like granting one little wish was the best thing on earth. "This is my niece Artemis. She's another goddess- one they hail at the surface."

_Surface, _Lana thought. The word caught her attention.

"I see the light in her eyes, uncle." Artemis said. "She wants to see it, doesn't she?"

Everybody in the room looked at Lana.

"S… See the surface?" Lana asked.

"Yes," Artemis said. "I am patron of maidens; the human equivalent of a young mermaid, Lana. And I take some of them all around the world traveling."

Lana couldn't even imagine what those mermaids –pardon, maidens- saw.

Papa squeezed her hand.

"Lana, you need to see the surface. You need to look around, you need to learn and explore it. Just like you've explored the sea. You may not know all of its secrets; but you want to know the surface more." He said.

"Papa, I'm happy with you." Lana said.

"No you're not and that's not your fault," Papa said. "Lady Artemis has accepted to take you in with her. She will grant you legs for as long as you need them, and you'll be able to explore with her."

Lana's jaw dropped.

"Would you like that?" Artemis asked.

Lana managed to nod.

"When would I have to come back to you? And to Elle, Lilas, Cora, Tria, Tris…"

"Never," Papa said. He kissed her ear. "You'd be alive forever, as long as you don't fall in battle."

"What?" Lana asked. "That's… That's…" She couldn't find a word. "Will you really let me go, Papa?"

"I have always let you explore," Papa said. "And more importantly, I have always wanted you to be happy. Now go with the surface goddess Lana. You will always be welcome in my home; but you will always be welcome to stay at the surface."

Lana hugged him, and he held her like she was a little mermaid.

"I love you," she whispered in his ear.

"And I love you, my little explorer." He said back.

* * *

><p>Lana looked down at her tail. It wasn't a tail anymore; they were legs. Long legs, with no scales, and those deformed hands at the end.<p>

"We call them toes," a girl that had been introduced as Elissa said.

"You have ten toes. Five on each foot because ten divided by two is five," one called Chantale said. They all had legs and toes, and they all seemed comfortable wearing the mortal clothes. Lana would just have to get used to it; real explorers always did.

So she tried to get up and wobbled for a second. The air was so much thinner than water and the pressure on her feet was great, not like on the tail; there was no support… Lana fell, but a girl called Phoebe took her hand.

"It's not as easy as it looks," she said. "The first time small children walk they fall left and right."

"I'm not a child," Lana said.

"I wasn't saying that," Phoebe said. "Come on, try again." And so Lana got up, and fell.

* * *

><p>But eventually she managed to walk, even if at first her feet ached and hurt and bled; scarlet blood like humans, and gold ichor like merfolk. A girl that the others went to when they were hurt did something called 'dressing the wound' although they were the oddest clothes to Lana. She learned a lot of their vocabulary on land. Dirt, clay, tree, wind… The bright spot where the light came from was the sun, and the god who managed it even talked to them once (but Lana agreed with the other Hunters and half-wished she hadn't, while the other half was willing to do anything on the surface at least once).<p>

Getting used to the surface was hard, but the girls she was to call sisters were nice, and they were nicer to her than Lana's own sisters had sometimes been.

At first she got used to the fact that there was no pressure here, and she didn't feel lightheaded anymore. Then she got used to the brightness and she didn't have to blink or shadow her eyes so often. She learnt that she didn't have to take huge breaths to get all the oxygen she needed, because there was no water. She got used to how hot it was; because when you weren't half in the water and half out it was very hot under the sun. But walking took a long time.

For example: Lana's strength with a tail was separated in two. And it'd always been mightier than a human girl's'; but on land it was weak. And she had to work on posture, because she always had her legs glued together like a tail shape, which didn't work with something called 'balance'. All those little things to think of; like bending her knees to stay on uneven surfaces, or watching on what kind of soil her feet went… All those little things that humans already knew and had a hard time explaining to her.

And then finally one day, a few of them were sitting around the camp fire just like that, and Elissa asked someone to pass her another pot of ink so she could write in one of the leather bound books Artemis seemed to find her each time she finished the last. Lana hadn't thought about it; she'd just wanted to help. She'd gotten up, grabbed the pot, and taken it to Elissa.

The other girls looked at Lana with open mouths and suddenly, she realised that she was standing on her own. Her toes sunk into the dirt, and it made her feet colder, fresher; except for where the bandages covered them. Lana stomped her foot on the ground too, she didn't fall. She smiled, and the girls there cheered and congratulated her, and went to get the others.

"Congratulation Lana," a girl named Zoë that she'd come to call the leader said. "Thy's first steps!"

Lana smiled. Her first steps towards a whole new world where she already felt her place had been made.

* * *

><p><strong>Next Chapter<strong>

"Oh, hello Lucy. Wonderful day, isn't it? A lot of _cumulus _in the sky… Hey, is that a new dress?" He asked her, looking her over.

And then she couldn't do it.


	7. Lucy Hall

**Long time no see amigos. _Mia culpa, mia maxima culpa. _That's Latin for 'my fault, my grievious fault'. My life's been insane, but now it's just crazy, so it's okay. Anyways, I'm uploading on everything today to make up for it since it's FAMILY DAY. Thanks for waiting, sorry for the wait, and I hope you enjoy this.**

**Just one footnote: I have no problem whatsoever with German people. One of my friends has German family. But think about the mind frame of today's girl, what she's living through and... Well, ugly feelings and ideas came up in the World Wars.**

**Disclaimer: I own nor PJO, nor Zoë, nor Artemis. **

* * *

><p><span>Lucy Hall<span>

_1916_

She walked home from school, with her hands in her jacket pockets, listening to Lawrence and James go on and on and on.

"And _I'm _going to survive the war and send the Germans back to where they came from!" James finished.

"We're 17 in 3 years," Lawrence said. "Then _we _can serve the United States in the trenches."

"I'm going to sign up too," Lucy said, more to herself than to her brother and his friend. Her brother and his friend were jerks, see, and they thought that it was the most hilarious and productive hobby in the world to prove to Lucy that they were jerks.

Lawrence and James stopped, stared, and started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Lucy demanded, tilting up her chin.

"_You_ in the trenches! You're a girl! You can't fight! Four seconds in you'd be like 'ewe there's dirt on my dress'," Lawrence laughed, making his voice peak up. They both started laughing and Lucy put her fists on her hips.

"I do _not_ sound like that, and if only people like you go fight, you'll put America to shame!" Lucy said.

"Says the wimp who can't even lift a crate of apples at the store!" Lawrence said. "Mom only asks _us_."

"Because it takes someone with brains to count the inventory, and you couldn't managed it." Lucy said, blushing.

"The army doesn't even take girls!" Lawrence said.

"He's right," Lawrence's friend James replied. "Girls just aren't as strong as boys."

"We can be!" Lucy yelled at him.

"It's physically proven!" James said.

"I could beat up Marc Hamilton in our class anytime!" Lucy spat.

"Anytime?" Lawrence asked.

"Yeah," Lucy said, her nails digging into her palm. "Anytime!"

* * *

><p>The following day, the schoolyard was quiet, which was how teachers were meant to know that something was coming and be on the very peak of attention.<p>

"There he is," Lawrence whispered in her ear, pointing at the school wall. Marc Hamilton was a feeble boy. He wasn't very strong or big, and he wore big glasses that made his eyes bug out like comics and cartoons. He didn't have many friends either, people were too busy making fun of him to make friends. He sat by the wall and read books about science and bugs. "Go beat him up like you said you could."

"Unless you were lying," James said.

"I wasn't lying!" Lucy hissed.

"Then go do it," Lawrence said, pushing her forwards.

Lucy balled up her fists by her side and walked towards the wall. She stood in front of Marc and it took him a while to realise she was there.

"Oh, hello Lucy. Wonderful day, isn't it? A lot of _cumulus _in the sky… Hey, is that a new dress?" He asked her, looking her over.

And then she couldn't do it.

Something stirred in the pit of Lucy's stomach. It _was _a new dress, and he was the only one to notice that today. And he was just sitting there, minding his own business, reading his book like always, and being nice to her. And she was supposed to punch him?

"Yeah, thanks." She said. And then she ran away.

She sat in class, tucked into herself and very, very ashamed.

Soldiers were tough. When bombs fell from the sky, they grabbed their fellows and ducked into hiding. When the Germans shot at them, they shot back. Soldiers were steal warriors that stood with their head high, and their country's flag on their uniforms and made America's name a good, proud one.

How could she even _think _about it if she couldn't even hit Marc Hamilton?

"Miss Hall!" The teacher snapped. Lucy looked up shell shocked.

"Y-yes Mr Stanley?" She asked.

"Can you please give the answer?" He asked.

"Umm, okay." Lucy said. She looked down at her math book. What number were they at?

She starred for a while, trying to figure out what number it was she was supposed to answer.

"Were you paying attention, Miss Hall?" He asked. Lucy ducked her head and didn't answer.

"Hold out your hand," he said. Lucy swallowed and did and got strapped on the hands. One, two, three times Mr Stanley's ruler made impact. Three times on each hand.

"There. Mr Hamilton, if you can give us the answer to number seven here..?"

Lucy tucked her shoulders in on herself and let the course carry on, torturing herself with thoughts and wondering how bad the walk home with the boys would be.

She made her way outside, shyly and gingerly. Lawrence and James were waiting at the flag pole for her, as per usual.

* * *

><p>Lucy tilted her head up, trying to pretend she wasn't afraid, and she made her way there.<p>

"'Afternoon," Lawrence said. "Let's go."

He was very civilised as they left school grounds. Then they were in neighbourhoods and Lawrence grabbed her by the bag and dragged her back.

"That was pathetic," he said.

"Leave me alone," Lucy said.

"You wimped out," James said. Lucy really didn't like James. He wasn't even her brother, what right did he have to make fun of her? Even less than James did!

"Like a little girl." Lawrence said. "Oh wait…" He and James started laughing and Lucy flushed- but with anger not embarrassment.

"How nice of you to notice dweeb!" She said. "Yes I am a girl! So leave me ALONE!"

"You have such a faint little heart, you're so weak."

"Yeah, if you can't punch Marc Hamilton, how on earth do you want to be a soldier, ever?" James added, sniggering. Because everything Lawrence said made James snigger and sit up on his back legs and beg and whimper for more, like a little puppy.

"Well maybe I have enough of a head not to punch people who don't deserve it!"

"You're so naïve, Lucy! Girls are too weak to punch people, it's why the army doesn't take them in."

"Girls are smarter than that, while boys punch the brains out of each other!" Lucy said, crediting herself highly for that comeback.

"Well you can't fight!" Lawrence said. Then he got smacked from behind and kicked in the side. Lucy jumped back and saw two girls- one with skin like caramel and long black hair, her hand still raised; and another one with complicated braids like the roman goddess statues.

"How was that for a punch in a fight?" The tall girl asked Lawrence, who was bent in two.

"Very good, Zoë. Of course, I'm just a naïve and stupid girl here, but I'd say girls _can _fight." The one with braids said.

"Why, I would even say very well, Fallon." Zoë said.

"Now scram before I take this even more personally; you jerks." Fallon told Lawrence and James. Her words were bitter. You'd think they just stampeded on something she owned.

They picked themselves up and sprinted towards the store fast (probably to tattle-tale and tell Mother), and Lucy just stood there, her brown eyes big and round like coins.

"They dare to speak that way… Oh, I have the war scars to prove girls lead armies." Fallon said shaking her head and locking her jaw tight as a vault in anger.

Lucy looked over the two girls. They even had… bows and arrows on their backs! Real weapons!

"How… How did you learn to fight like that- where did you get your weapons- wow you guys are so cool!" Lucy said in total awe.

"We are hunters," Zoë said. "It is what we do."

"Wow!" Lucy said. "Wow- can I join? Is it like girl scouts?"

"No," Fallon said. "It is more complicated than that. We don't go home after meetings. We live with the hunters and travel with them."

"It can be years before we return to a city." Zoë said.

"We have not gone back to Camp Jupiter yet," Fallon said bitterly. But Lucy didn't register the strange name; Zoë's bit of sentence replayed in her head over, and over like a bad radio.

"_All _the time?" Lucy asked. "That is so cool! Does it take money? Does my mom need to say yes or can I just go?"

"Slow down your questions," Fallon said. "It's a serious decision, and it _will _change your life."

"But it sounds so amazing," Lucy said. "Just traveling and fighting and getting actual weapons like you! My brother says I can't- but I want to do it, really badly."

"Then it depends," Zoë said. "It changes depending on thy circumstances. Would thou like to discuss this with our lady?"

"Absolutely!" Lucy said. "I want to do it even if the boys say I can't!"

So Zoë and Fallon walked her back to their 'camp', which Lucy figured was a church basement just like what Doris in her class said girl guide meetings were held in. But she soon shook that idea from her head once she heard the two girls talk.

Fallon _did _have scars on the back of her neck and hands, like she'd fought her whole life; and her eyes were scary grey like they'd hurt anybody and knew have. Even sniggering puppy dog James wasn't enough of an idiot to think that Fallon wasn't a person of action.

They asked Lucy how old she was, and for a second she was scared she'd be too young to join. But when she said eleven apparently it was okay. They also asked her if she knew who Artemis was, and they explained everything once she said no. Lucy couldn't believe it; it sounded too much like those stories Mr Stanley made her read about Helios and Zeus and other strange named gods.

Soon they were in a park, with a big field the boys played soccer in.

"There it is," Zoë said. Lucy squinted. She didn't see anything.

"She's mortal, Zoë." Fallon chided. "She can't see through the mist."

"That veil thing, right?" Lucy asked.

"Exactly," Fallon nodded. "Just close your eyes and reopen them; think about us and following us to our camp."

"You're not going to run away while my eyes are closed, right?" Lucy said. "Especially not with my schoolbag?"

Zoë huffed. "We are not your brother."

And that was a fair point, so Lucy did as they asked. When she opened her eyes, they widened like quarters.

Tents had been set up, and these massive white wolves, with fur like those foxes that lived in the north, were roaming around. Girls were sitting around a fire, roasting vegetables and meat, or boiling water. But most of them were up and about, running around freely; some shooting red and white targets that were hung on the trees surrounding the field. Others were running through obstacle courses, running with their feet going in different tires, crawling under netting, climbing up trees, pulling a flag from the leafing, and running back. Others were sparring with what looked like short knives.

Lucy's eyes dwelled on those two girls for a while longer, watching the one with the braids and strange tattoos on her hands and legs completely outplay the other girl.

Lucy gawked _big time. _

"Looks cool?" Fallon asked her with a smile. Lucy's eyes sparkled as she turned towards Fallon and Zoë.

"Can I join?"

* * *

><p><em>More than 50 years later<em>

Lucy released an arrow that missed the monster and planted itself in a New York licence plate.

Styx.

It turned around to look at her and bared fangs- Lucy took out two knives and charged into hand-to-hand combat.

Soon, she couldn't even recall what exactly she did; she sat on the monsters' back, its head stuck between two blades.

_Take that Lawrence, _she thought. Just like every other time she fought.

* * *

><p><strong>Next Chapter<strong>

Her mother and father had been very clear. Walk to school, come back home. No detours, stops… Nothing; because everyone hated anyone Japanese right now. The almond shaped eyes and black hair she'd always had now were a stain. They were showing to everyone that she was Japanese; except they'd react much worse than the people in her class had. They _could _act much worst too. People were horrible.


	8. Kasumi Fujimoto

**Hi! Thanks for the reviews from last week! Just want to make one thing clear about this chapter: I have nothing against people who are Asian or of Asian descent. I would **_not_ **walk up to someone in the street and call them 'yellow' because it isn't right or respectful, but in this one, the term pops up for reasons many people figured out in the comments. It's like when Lucy's brother was dissing the Germans: it's how things were in the time, and how I'm glad they aren't like now. I'm not too sure about this chapter, but I wanted to approach WWII without going into concentration camps because I don't think I have a right to write something of that ammount of cruelty, since I'm pretty blind about it. **

**So enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I no own PJO, hunters or HoO. Too bad, eh? **

* * *

><p><span>Kasumi Fujimoto<span>

_1941_

Kasumi's stomach was filled with a million butterflies, beating their wings as fast as hummingbirds and trying to get out. She'd never felt unsafe walking home from school on her own; but now she did.

She could nearly hear the people in her class talking about the war and the attack on Pearl Harbour. School had retaken session, and everyone looked at Kasumi like it was her fault. Like she had wanted this to happen, like she was happy about it, _proud _even… None of them had talked to her for the whole day, said hello or goodbye… They'd ignored her during the group project in geography class, when they'd had to find countries on a map.

They'd just found Japan and started cussing it for the attack.

"I heard there were 353 Japanese planes," a girl named Annette had said.

"My dad told me that four ships were sunk." Joseph had replied.

And they hadn't even _mentioned _the death toll because it was still so, so scary.

Kasumi understood them. How could people be so cruel? How could they just bomb a place like that? On a Sunday morning when everyone was at home and relaxing? Not that Sunday mornings meant much in Japan, but how could you do that any day of the week? Kasumi didn't understand war. It broke the world you were trying to rule.

And even worst; Alice wasn't walking home with her. She hadn't even been at school, and Kasumi knew why; because Mr Oliver Jenkins had been on one of the four ships that sunk. And that made Kasumi's stomach tighten.

What if Alice hated her too? Oh, her friend must be so broken right now… And Kasumi couldn't go see her.

Her mother and father had been very clear. Walk to school, come back home. No detours, stops… Nothing; because everyone hated anyone Japanese right now. The almond shaped eyes and black hair she'd always had now were a stain. They were showing to everyone that she was Japanese; except they'd react much worse than the people in her class had. They _could _act much worst too. People were horrible.

She kept her face down and walked faster. She didn't stop until she was home, and the door was locked behind her; but right away she heard the crying. She slipped her bag off her shoulder and went to investigate in the kitchen. Her little sister was sitting on the counter, her mother was holding some ice to her knee and singing a Japanese lullaby that she'd sung for as long as Kasumi could remember, and had always calmed bother sisters down.

She just leaned against the wall and wondered what had happened.

Finally Mary was okay, and she hopped off the counter and went to play. Mother spotted Kasumi and smiled weakly.

"Hello darling," she said opening her arms for a hug.

"Hello," Kasumi said, taking it. "What's wrong with Mary?"

Mother's face darkened.

"A little boy tripped her when she walked home," she said. "It's nothing. She's perfectly fine now."

"Why?" Kasumi asked. Mother pushed her bangs from her eyes.

"I think you know why," she said.

"I don't know why you're back from work already." Kasumi asked. Usually Mother came back right before supper and they ate later. Mary waited on the steps for Kasumi to come home with the key, or she'd play on the lawn.

"I'm…" She bit her lip. "I'm not going back to work for a bit."

"You got _fired?" _Kasumi's jaw dropped.

"No, no, no." Mother said. "Just… For a bit… They'll handle the house without me."

"They don't want you near the children, is that it?" Kasumi asked, getting angrier by the second. Mother was a kind of day governess to two toddlers in a rich neighbourhood.

"It's impermanent, darling." Mother promised. "Just until people… Calm down a bit."

Kasumi frowned. That wasn't fair. Mother had been a little girl when she'd left Japan, Father had been born in Hawaii, and Kasumi had never even _been _to Japan, and Mary was even younger than her! They weren't part of the country, much less of its military; why did they deserve the hate?

"Can I go see Alice?" Kasumi asked. Mother pursed her lips.

"Oh, Kasumi, I rather not. Please? Just do your homework tonight, and read a book. You still haven't finished the one your teacher lent you."

Her mother was fragile now. It wasn't a good time to argue. She sighed and went to pick up her bag at the front door, where her book and homework waited. But that didn't have to mean she liked it.

* * *

><p>She knocked on the door. Mrs. Jenkins opened, her hair pinned up, and her eyes underlined by pockets as dark as her black clothes. Black clothes you wore when you were mourning.<p>

"Hello Mrs. Jenkins," Kasumi said politely. "Is Alice home?"

Mrs. Jenkins' face twisted in pain.

"Yes. Yes she is. Come in, Kasumi."

Kasumi felt so relieved she wanted to throw her arms around the woman, but held herself back. She took her shoes off at the front and looked up at Mrs. Jenkins.

"I'm sorry for your loss." She said more honestly than she thought she could ever be. Mrs. Jenkins bowed her head.

"She's in her room. She hasn't wanted to come out much."

"Thank you." Kasumi said. She let herself wander into the house she knew as well as her own, and knock on Alice's door.

"Mom, I don't want-" Came Alice's voice.

"It's not your mother." Kasumi said. Her voice caught in fear. "It's Kasumi."

There was a moment where nothing happened throughout the house. Fear and worry and nearly tears bundled up in Kasumi's throat. School hadn't been better today, it'd been worst if anything for Kasumi and the other boy in her class with Japanese heritage, George. What if things hadn't settled down for Alice either? What if she was still mad? What if she still hated Kasumi? What if, what if, what if… It felt like years before the door unbolted.

Alice's brown curls were in a mess, and she wasn't even dressed properly; her feet bare and her glasses dirty. This wasn't like Alice; she always dressed to impress. And she was talkative usually; but she didn't say anything as she looked at Kasumi.

"I'm sorry about your father," Kasumi finally said. Alice nodded.

"He didn't even get to finish his Sunday Pancakes." Alice said softly.

"He was a brave man." Kasumi told Alice. She remembered Mr Jenkins making jokes and laughing and telling the funniest stories. Her heart clenched and she nearly started crying. Alice's must hurt so badly...

She pulled her friend in a hug and Alice cried in her hair, and Kasumi started crying too. She took a step back.

"I'm sorry Kasumi, it just…"

"Isn't anything to be sorry about," Kasumi said, gently, combing through Alice's hair with her hand.

"I meant to talk to you before because my cousin told me that Japanese people are hated now. I don't hate you. I hope you didn't think so."

Kasumi didn't admit to her that she _had _been afraid. She was just so happy that she wasn't.

* * *

><p>So when she walked from Alice's house to home, she didn't feel afraid. She was actually smiling. She got to keep her best friend. Her best friend didn't hate her. It didn't matter if all of Hawaii hated her, Alice was still there for her.<p>

"What are you smiling about, yellow girl?" Someone sneered.

She saw teenagers walking towards her. They were older than Kasumi was by a longshot; three boys and two girls, and they all looked at her mad. Locked jaws, angry eyes…

"I… My… My friend is well." Kasumi said.

"Oh that's fantastic. Well guess what," a boy said. "My friend isn't. Can you think of why?"

_Because of Pearl Harbour._

"She knows," a girl sneered, "which is probably why she's smiling in the first place."

"No," Kasumi said.

"You yellow people can't lie," one said.

"I'm not yellow thank you very much, I'm Japanese-American!" Kasumi snapped. She wasn't good at taking it when people just got in her face.

"Ooh, somebody's being a bit of a bigmouth." The guy said.

Kasumi had stayed at Alice's too long. Not many people were out now; they were all eating supper in their houses, far away… She wasn't sure if it would change a thing if people were standing next to her and watching what was going on, actually.

"And that's even worse than being yellow," the other girl said.

* * *

><p>She was by the ocean. Kasumi wasn't sure why. Sure; it was on the way home. But it wasn't like she <em>had <em>to get on the beach. Besides; this place was where everything had exploded. People had died. Alice's father had died. Even the boy who'd been snapping at her until a shopkeeper came out and told them to pick on someone their own size had lost someone here. It wasn't like she had _had_ to feel the sand crunching under her shoes, or look at the debris that was still floating on the ocean even after three days' time on her way home.

This was also the place where all the hatred people had for her came from. Where bitter words had been inspired from, bitter thoughts like revenge; and bitter actions like tripping classmates walking home from school, had been born.

This was the place where this _racism _had started. Where she'd changed from Kasumi, the girl who made paper birds for show and tell and always listened and lent her homework to people who hadn't done theirs so they could copy the answers to '_the yellow'. _What a horrible way to be known as. She wasn't even Japanese, she was _American_. Born in Hawaii, raised in Hawaii, taught the national anthem, celebrated the holidays…

Racism. That word made her mouth bitter as well.

She saw a head emerge from the water. For a second she got impossibly hopeful that it was a survivor of the devastation- even if that thought was insane. Then she realised it was a girl with blond hair. The girl swam back to a dock, where Kasumi saw a group of girls waiting for her- all dressed in silver. Were they even allowed to be here? She didn't think anyone was allowed to swim in the harbour after the attack- just in case, by common sense, and by repulsion of the place.

She walked towards the dock to find out, but stayed at a distance to watch.

Two girls each took one of her arms and pulled her from the water.

"That's all the debris I can bring out for the day, Lady Artemis, I'm exhausted." She said breathing heavily.

"You did good Shelly," a girl with auburn hair said. "Thank the fates we have at least one daughter of Poseidon to help."

Poseidon? She tried to remember who that was. She was pretty sure he was… In a story she'd learnt at school…

"Thanks." Kasumi noticed that the girl, Shelly, was dry. How was that..?

"My Lady?" A girl with long black hair and skin the colour of caramel said. "There is someone watching us."

Kasumi was frozen as they all spun around to look at Kasumi. She'd walked closer without even realising it; too close.

"Sorry, you probably don't want to see _me_ here…" She babbled blushing.

"Nonsense," the girl with the auburn hair said. "Come closer," she told Kasumi.

Kasumi did. She was terrified. Would she be insulted again? Or –God forbid- beaten? She should've just run away… She should've just gone home… She should run away _now. _

"Why wouldn't we want to see you here? It's not fully legal, and you shouldn't be out so late, but- why are you so surprised?"

Kasumi was frozen. That was why? Not one mention to her race? That was new since the attack.

"I… Not many people have appreciated me being around." Kasumi said. It was a mumble, but the girl made it out.

"Why not?" She asked.

"I'm second generation Japanese." Kasumi said. There was a confused silent.

"Yeah, and I'm Chinese." Another girl said.

"I'm Mexican."

"Greek," another said.

"So?" The first girl said. Kasumi didn't want to explain, but the auburn haired girl seemed to finally understand.

"Please- by all means- tell me that you aren't getting blamed for the harbour?" She asked.

"Not blamed but… Mistrusted. Disliked…"

A few girls muttered various comments.

"Enough," the lead girl said. "What is your name?"

"Kasumi," she answered.

"Well, Kasumi, would you like to spend some time here? We'll escort you home after, to make sure you are safe. I think Adara was in charge of supper tonight."

"That's always a treat," one girl said.

"O-okay…" Kasumi agreed. She didn't know why she agreed, but she agreed. The girls here looked honest to see her and talked happily with her. Not like the kids at school. They wanted to see her to _see _her, not to just make fun of her.

So Kasumi sat with them at the camp fire and spent what felt like hours talking and laughing with the other girls there. She even learned a few names: Lan was the girl of Chinese origin who had spoken up earlier, Ann, Vita, Elissa…

At the end of the night, those girls brought her home, just as it was starting to get very, very dark. Her parents would be so worried…

On the way back, Kasumi told them about how the kids at school had treated her. Like she was evil.

"That sucks," Lan said. "I remember when I got to America. The only work my Dad could get was building rail roads, and he got paid less than the other workers too. They didn't like me either."

"_We _like you, that's all that matters," Elissa said, wrapping her arms around her.

_I wish that was all that really _did _matter too. _Kasumi thought.

* * *

><p>She buried her face in her pillow and yelled and cried at the same time. That was not fair. That was not fair!<p>

She'd thrown a punch back at someone who'd called her yellow and started it! _He _was suspended, _she _was expelled- just because Principal Adam's son hadn't made it out of the harbour. She knew that was why. It was an unspoken and ugly truth, but it was still a truth.

Father had always told Kasumi to tell the truth. And now she had and it'd bit her in the back.

* * *

><p>She had wandered away to have a walk and try to clear her head. Shifty thoughts were meant to be shaken out, as Mother always said.<p>

When she got back she saw a military jeep in front of her house, the door was wide open, and a soldier stood next to it. Every single organ, every heartbeat, everything inside of Kasumi froze. _What _were they doing there?

Then she saw a soldier leading her father, hands behind his head, out. Her mother was shuffling Mary along, but she was being led out too.

Kasumi felt her limbs melt off her and she went numb. No… No, it couldn't be… her family couldn't be in trouble with the _military. _She'd heard that it'd happened to George, in her class. His neighbour Paul had seen it happen; the military had come and had taken them to a place called 'Sand Island', who was, unlike the name, very bad and mean.

The teacher had explained that it was an Army internment camp. It meant that people went there without a trial, in big groups. The teacher hadn't looked at Kasumi the entire time the explanation lasted, and now Kasumi knew why; because those big groups of people were Japanese. Just because she was Japanese…

Mary started crying, not understanding what was going on. It made rage boil inside Kasumi as the big sister claws came out, and it came out through her eyes as tears of anger and frustration.

What was her family? Spies? For God's sake, Kasumi may write and speak Japanese, she might have Japanese family, she might know Japanese stories on dragons, and lullabies thanks to her mother; but how did that make her any less of a person? Did that give soldiers a right to make her little sister _cry? _A little girl, six years old. _Cry? _

Then Kasumi realised that they would look for her next if she were missing.

She didn't want to be one yellow in a crowd of yellows. She didn't want to be thrown into an 'Army internment camp' and she didn't want to be at a place called 'Sand Island'. She wanted to be Kasumi Fujimoto, girl, American citizen, living in Honolulu…

And so she ran.

Her feet led her to nowhere and everywhere at once. She didn't quite _know _where she was going_, _but she ended up at the beach, near the harbour. And she saw a campsite of silver tents on the beach.

_Silver… _She thought. She remembered the fun and happy night with Vita, Elissa…

She ran towards the campfires and saw the girls in silver that she'd seen before.

A girl who wore her hair in complex braids and tattoos on her arms and legs looked at her. Vita.

"You again?" She asked. She motioned forwards and Kasumi did.

"It's me again." Kasumi said.

"It's nice to see you! We're just packing up because Lady Artemis said we had business to accomplish in- wait, what's wrong?" A girl asked.

"You look hurt. You look like a bird's whose wings were sliced off, and I can see your tears even in this faint light." A girl that she remembered being called Elissa said.

She looked so genuinely worried that Kasumi explained to her what was wrong. From getting expelled, to her family stuck going to that 'army internment camp'…

She frowned and dropped her jaw, undignified. Ann started looking as angry as a bull that had seen a red flag and she went to go kick something, cussing in a language Kasumi didn't know.

"That's horrible!" Elissa said.

"My parents were trying not to look disappointed," Kasumi went on. "And now they're gone, and I don't know if and when they'll find me, and I don't know what next." She hadn't stopped crying.

Suddenly one of the last remaining tents opened and Zoë came out, leading the lead girl, Artemis.

"Kasumi, what a surprise," Artemis said looking at her. "The hunters tell me something is wrong, and I do imagine so if Ann is cussing like a sailor."

And so Kasumi explained.

For a second the girl's yellow moon-like eyes sparked with rage like lightning sparked with light. For a second, the girl seemed to spark herself, like with one of those 'auras'. But then her face fell to a serious expression, and Kasumi assumed that the glow was the product of her imagination.

"Child," Artemis started. More than once, she'd referred to Kasumi as 'child'. Which was more than weird, considering that Kasumi was both older (at least by two years considering she looked twelve) and taller than her. "One of the first things you asked me was if my name was from a story. And I said no as to not frighten you, but the answer is yes. Yes, the name Artemis refers to the Hunters of Artemis from Greek mythology, like I think you suspected."

Kasumi nodded, she _had_.

"But it's not a reference, Kasumi. I _am _Artemis."

"What? B-but…"

"My hunters and I must leave Hawaii," Artemis moved on. "We have business to attend elsewhere. But we can bring you with us. It will keep you from the bad treatment and the camp here. Would you accept it?"

Anybody would.

"What about my family?" Kasumi asked. Mary had been _crying. _

"It's too late for me to save them without saving everybody else, and there are Ancient Laws who forbid me. No god is unstoppable."

Kasumi thought again.

"Would I ever be able to tell them I'm okay? That I'm still alive?"

"Of course," Artemis said.

"We_ like you, that's all that matters," Elissa said, wrapping her arms around her._

She looked back at the camp. Nobody looked at each other like they were the odd ones out. Nobody looked at anyone odd.

Maybe Kasumi wouldn't be out again.

Maybe she could be back in her own skin, back in her comfort…

Back to being Japanese-American and proud of it.

"Yes," Kasumi said. "I would like to join the hunt."

* * *

><p><em>24 years later<em>

She was an old woman now. Gray didn't shoot through her hair, the shade engulfed the once jet black mane. Her face was wrinkled and glasses were propped on her nose. Her mother was bent by age, but she knew who Kasumi was immediately.

"K… Kasumi?" The frail woman asked. "Oh goodness, I am so old I am hallucinating…" She said, holding to the doorframe as if she expected a stroke or a heart attack.

"No Mother, it's me. Kasumi, your little girl." She said. With a grip Kasumi hadn't expected from a woman of her age and frailness, Mother grabbed Kasumi in a hug, and held her close, her hand stroking Kasumi's hair and crying her eyes out. It brought tears to Kasumi's eyes too.

Artemis had kept her promise. Every promise ever made to Kasumi had been fulfilled. Belonging, safety –although at times she hadn't been so sure-, fun… And a chance to go back home and explain herself. To breathe in the sea-salted air of Hawaii and talk to her family again and to tell them why she had vanished and never came back until then. She'd already found Mary, living with a broad shouldered man and two little boys and a baby girl on the way. She'd laid flowers on her Father's grave, and told the story to the stone slab to make her feel better.

"How… How? You never came to Sand Island, we never saw you, heard from you, we thought you were dead, Kasumi!" Mother sobbed.

"Oh, Mother I have a long story to tell you," she said. "And it's even more fantastic than your stories of dragons."

"You… You remembered?" The old woman chocked.

"Of course I remembered," Kasumi said. "I never forgot you. I never forgot who I was."

* * *

><p><strong>Next<strong>

"That's 'cause she's drunk," he explained. "It's the wine and alcohol. The stuff you're not allowed to drink. It's making her think and see things that aren't true. Nobody hates you Kimmy."

"Why does she keep getting drunk if it's making her lie, then?" Kim asked her brother.

"She has a problem. Like Dad."

"Everyone has that problem," she said, curling up on herself more, and hugging her blanket. A horrible thought struck Kim. "Gabe, don't you ever have that problem! Don't you ever say you hate me!"

"Of course not, kiddo. I will never, ever touch a drop of wine or beer or _whatever. _I promise I won't fall in that hole. Do you promise too?"


	9. Kim Ugliano

**Hi ladies and gentlemen! ****Okay, so this chapter ended up being massif. I think it's the biggest yet, probably worst than Ann or Sabina's. But I'm not sure where to cut even if I want to cut. **

**A bit inspired by this kind-of bad movie that we saw in English class, kind-of because I wanted to do something on substance, and partially because I wanted to bring an old PJO character back in. Anyways, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: don't own the real hunters who appear, Rick Riordan's portrayal of their leader, or the PJO world.**

* * *

><p><span>Kim Ugliano<span>

1981

They say that when something's going wrong, you should just ignore it. But at some point, you can flip and flop in bed all you want, tuck your head under every pillow and blanket there is on your bed or in your apartment; but it just won't block out the two in the morning screaming.

Kim couldn't sleep; she was curled in on herself and very, very scared. Her mom hadn't stopped yelling at the toaster for a long, long time. And she was yelling about Kim, about how she'd ruined her life by being born, how she could've been an actress and a star and how her bright future had been snuffed out… Whatever 'snuffed' meant.

"Hey," someone shook her shoulder. She turned around startled and saw Gabe standing there. He was five years and five months older than Kim, so right now he was twelve. And he thought that that meant he was allowed to call her 'Kimmy'. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Kim said.

"You don't look okay," he said. She sat up straight and looked him in the eyes.

"Mommy's yelling 'cause she hates me." She said.

"Nah, she doesn't hate you," her brother replied.

"Well that's what she's yelling at the toaster." Kim said.

"That's 'cause she's drunk," he explained. "It's the wine and alcohol. The stuff you're not allowed to drink. It's making her think and see things that aren't true. Nobody hates you Kimmy."

"Why does she keep getting drunk if it's making her lie, then?" Kim asked her brother.

"She has a problem. Like Dad."

"Everyone has that problem," she said, curling up on herself even more, and hugging her blanket. A horrible thought struck Kim. "Gabe don't you ever have that problem! Don't you ever say you hate me!"

"Of course not, kiddo. I will never, ever touch a drop of wine or beer or _whatever. _I promise I won't fall in that hole. Do you promise too?"

Kim nodded.

"Good," Gabe said. "Come on Kimmy, my bed's further away from the door, there's a bit less noise."

And so she curled up, propped up against Gabe who was propped up against the wall; surrounded by the two safest things in the world of Kim. Her blanket and he brother.

* * *

><p><em>Six Years Later<em>

1987

See; there are different kinds of drunk: the happy drunk, the angry drunk, and the aggressive drunk. Well, those were the main categories Kim and her brother separate them in. There were sub-categories Kim used to catalogue people she met and saw; but those were the basics.

Her mom would fit in the angry drunk. She would yell at anything and everything. And when there was nobody to yell at (such as right now), she'd yell at inanimate objects about every single problem in her life. Already that was something you might not want to hear your mom yell about, but when you were included in the list, it didn't feel that fantastic.

Then there would be her father, the aggressive drunk. Thankfully, a couple of his friends, oh-so-generous souls that they were, would take him away when it was really _that _bad; or the small part of his conscience that wasn't overboard would get him to go take a walk. He'd eventually pass out somewhere. The apartment manager didn't really see that great of a reason to move him back up or _something_, everybody else in this building had a bigger problem, and it wasn't not like Kim or her brother went looking for him. He usually made his way back just in time to throw up in the garbage can. But sometimes his friends were just as drunk, or they were drinking in the apartment, no place to go off to.

As mentioned; when happy hour became that bad, it was time to burry themselves in their room with peanut butter sandwiches and junk food to tough out the night. That made it a bit okay.

"Gabe?" Kim whispered.

"Yeah?" Gabe answered. When she realised he was up, she flipped onto her stomach and propped her elbows above her pillow, to look at her brother. His bed along the far wall was hidden to her. He got up to face her too.

He might be her brother, but she had to admit that Gabe looked good considering he was her brother. He had shaggy brown hair, and deep eyes. His chin was usually frosted with stubble, and he always wore a leather jacket. School sports had done him good, and he was strong, muscles overlapping his arms. Although the first and main reason he even did sports was to stay out of the apartment. But they'd also given him a scar on the back of his ear when he'd wrestled a guy whose too-long nails had slipped by inspection and regulations and cut him.

"I can't sleep," she said even if the little voice inside her head went _duh. _

"That'd be the screaming," he said. He sighed. "Come here."

She crawled out of bed, and into his, sitting at the foot of his bed, leaning against the wall, and they looked up at the stippling in the ceiling.

"I found one," Gabe said.

"Really? Where?" Kim asked, squinting to see what she'd missed.

"There," Gabe pointed.

"I don't see it." Kim said. Gabe got up and picked up a permanent marker from his backpack. Standing on the mattress, he traced lines on the ceiling, from one little bump of stippling to another. He traced a box, a latch…

"See? Big Dipper." He said. They spent nearly an hour after that finding more constellations; everything from Leo to Pegasus to Scorpio.

When she'd been seven Kim had complained that you couldn't stargaze in New York, and so Gabe had told her that you had to look for stars in different places. She'd been curled up with a book on constellations when she'd noticed how all the little dots that were the stippling looked like all the stars. And so Gabe had started tracing the constellations in permanent marker. They'd spent afternoons and sleepless nights like this one reading books on constellations and memorising them, although now that she was twelve Kim was pretty sure Gabe couldn't care less about constellations if the little game hadn't taken their (especially her) minds off a bunch of things.

Their sky might have seventeen Big Dippers, three Little Dippers, five Cassiopeias, and she'd stopped counting the Orion belts; but still. Not everything was perfect.

"I could have been a star if it weren't for his damn spawn!" She heard her mom yell- no doubt at a vase. No- never mind, Gabe had given it away before it was thrown and smashed against something.

Gabe crinkled his nose and sat down again.

"There's a Hercules," Kim said pointing up to distract him. It was one of those constellations that they'd seen a million times apiece, but that they never highlighted so there'd always be something new to find.

"Oh yeah," he said. His nose was still crinkled.

"Gabe, she doesn't mean it…" Kim said, really wanting her brother to feel better.

"She's bringing up deep feelings that she feels when she isn't drunk," Gabe said. "She _does _mean it."

"And then the other brat came and my comeback to Broadway was ruined!" She heard again. Kim suddenly knew it was her and she bit her lips.

"Kim…" Gabe frowned and she could see by his face he felt sorry for saying that everything their mother said _was _meant; because now Kim was on the receiving end. She curled up with her legs hugged to her chest, and she licked her lips.

"I had a pop quiz today." Kim said.

"Oh yeah? How'd it go?" Gabe asked.

"It was okay," Kim said. "I revised all my vocabulary words a lot."

"I'm sure you did fine," Gabe said. "You're good in science."

She nodded. "And then second period History I got my test back."

"Oh yeah? How did that end up?" Gabe asked.

"Great, I got an A."

"Good job, kiddo." Gabe smiled.

"Do you think you can forge Dad's signature for me?" She asked. "I don't think he'll be back tonight, and the pounding in Mom's head will make her irritable tomorrow. I don't want to get a detention for not signing it."

"Anytime, kiddo." Gabe said. "Good job on the A's."

"I give so much but get nothing back!" Came a shriek, followed by a series of slobbery-sounding sobs. Kim swallowed hard. Maybe she _should _tell her mother about the A…

"Come on kiddo, time to try and sleep again. It'll at least give you a chance tomorrow at school," he said. "Love ya."

"Love you too, Gabe." She said before jumping from his bed to hers. She fell to a sitting position on her bed, curled up in a quilt, and tucked her head under the pillows.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you slept?" Gwennie asked her. Kim looked up from her locker, tired as hell. She was about to say that no, she hadn't slept at all, but that seemed a bit of an overkill.<p>

"Of course I did," Kim said. Gwennie crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Do you want to sleep over at my place?" She finally asked. "My mom would be okay with it."

"No Gwennie, its fine." Kim sighed pulling her science textbook from her locker. "I'm fine. Besides, I can't leave Gabe home alone. There's strength in numbers."

"They wouldn't do anything to him," Gwennie said. "R-right?"

"I don't think so," Kim said. "But just in case."

"Kim, don't you think you should talk to someone? I don't know a guidance counsellor or something?"

"No," Kim insisted. "I'm," she chocked back a yawn, "Fine. Please leave it alone."

And like the best friend she was, Gwennie obliged against all her instincts to help out, and walked with Kim to class.

* * *

><p>Kim opened the door nervously. It was one of those rare occasions where she was home alone. Usually, Gabe did anything he could to forbid it. He'd get her to watch the football, baseball, wrestling or whatever practise he was attending, he'd refuse to forge a test signature so she'd be in a detention room, he'd make one of his friends go home with her, he'd bring her to work and have her sit behind the cash register of either the pharmacy or the electronics store… She could usually find somewhere else to go too; but not today.<p>

She feared the worst considering last night had been a bad night, but all she found was her mother sprawled on the couch, a water cloth on her forehead. When the door opened she lifted the cloth off her forehead and looked up at Kim.

"Oh hi honey," she smiled weakly. Julianne Ugliano would've been beautiful. She honestly would've. Kim had seen a picture of her mother, when she'd been a young adult once.

She had long brown hair and bottle green eyes; she _had _been beautiful; which was how she and Roger Ugliano had even hooked up that one night, from which Gabe was born, and from which a wedding eventually followed, then Kim.

Now? Not so much. Once, when she was drunk, she'd chopped her hair off. Now her eyes were always glassy and small and bloodshot nearly all the time. She slumped too, and she'd gotten so worked up about her drinking problems that she'd started eating junk and she'd become overweight, which made her drink more, eat more, drink, drink, more, more…

She was in a sorry state now. Kim remembered when she was little, how it'd been different and her mother had smelled like peaches and other fruit. Now? She smelled like wine and champagne all the time.

"Hi mom," Kim said trying to just speed-walk to her room.

"How was school?" She asked sitting up. She slumped. Obviously a hangover, a big one at that.

Kim bit her lip.

Math test in fatigue- probably failed.

Hadn't had a chance to buy more markers for art because of money problems- detention.

English- homework had been completed without a dictionary because Kim had been too scared to ask her mother where it was while she was drunk- turned out to count for 25% of final grade.

Gym- she had been super self-conscient about her gym clothes smelling like sweat because nobody had done laundry in a while because of the lack of quarters.

"Great," Kim said. "It was really good."

"Good," her mom smiled. "Hey, what should I make for supper?"

"I don't know," Kim said.

"Would you like Shepard's pie? Gabe likes that too, right?"

"Yeah, I love it."

"Or maybe I should make Mexican. That seven-layer dip too."

"Gabe would love it," Kim promised. Julianne nodded.

"Okay, I'll do that. Oh god, my head aches… Wake me up at quarter to five, kay honey?"

"Okay Mom," Kim said.

"Love you." Julianne said, rubbing her eyes.

"Love you too, Mom." Kim said, slipping inside her room. It was so weird; sometimes her mom was actually a nice person. An actually nice person that cared, who wanted to take care of Kim and Gabe…

"_I could have been a star if it weren't for his damn spawn!" _

But maybe she was just faking it, because when she wasn't drunk she could fake those feelings.

* * *

><p>"Hey, so during the half-day, we were thinking of hanging out in Central Park," Bridget Snow said.<p>

"That'd be cool," Kim said.

"Yeah, it would." Hannah said. "Can your Mom drive us?"

"Mine's out of town," Gwennie said. "Sorry."

"I don't have a car at home," Hannah said.

"Kim, can your parents drive us?" Kim's eyes widened. Oh god- her Mom driving, handling a car, on a road, with other drivers, people in the car, pedestrians, traffic lights…

"No!" She said immediately. "She… She really can't…"

"Why not? My mom drove us to the movies last time." Bridget said.

"Mine did the time before that," Hannah said. "It's your turn. Why can't she?"

"Because…" Kim tried to find an excuse, but her brain had just emptied its contents into the surrounding air.

"Because I can't go," she finished by saying. "I have… I have to help my mom… Bake… For the… Church…" Kim said.

It was a lie, but she couldn't tell the truth, now could she?

* * *

><p>Kim and Gabe had gone to eat at a fast food restaurant. When they'd left for school, their parents had been irritable and had been yelling at each other. They'd decided to give it a break.<p>

Full of milkshakes and cheeseburgers and curly fries, her stomach aching from laughing so hard, Kim didn't even worry as she walked into the apartment.

The door opened and Kim had to duck straight away as a vase was thrown her way.

Mom and Dad were yelling at each other. Or, as she thought of them when they were in this kind of state, _Julianne and Roger Ugliano_ were yelling at each other. Something about 'impregnating her and ruining her career', and then 'you didn't raise the kids right' and then 'you're never there' and then 'I'm going to kill you', and Roger grabbed Julianne's shoulder.

"STOP!" Gabe suddenly said alerted, rushing to the middle of the fight. "That's enough!" He grabbed Roger's arm, and he twitched horribly to try and jerk Gabe away.

"Dad!" Kim yelled. She rushed forwards, but Gabe handled it. He tackled Roger and forced him towards the bathroom. His dad was bigger, but Gabe was pretty strong and muscular. _Plus _he wasn't drunk right then.

With a shove, Gabe started pushing Roger towards the bathroom door.

Roger fought back and he tried to fight off Gabe, but that didn't work. Gabe was a wrestler with the school team.

But he did try to nail Gabe (did he even realise it was Gabe?) in the mouth, and Kim ran forwards to help her brother.

"Kim, back off!" Gabe said. "Get in the room!"

Roger yelled something about pixies and he swung his fist, which hit Kim in the mouth. Kim stuttered back, more in shock than in pain.

'Aggressive' had been with words up until now. Throwing things, maybe; threats, definitely, hitting random things, trying to pick fights with other people... But she'd never been hit. Not by anybody at school, not by her own father. Her eyes teared as the shock settled in and she realised that it really _did _hurt.

Gabe just got even matter.

"You asshole!" Gabe yelled. He shook Dad. "Screw you!"

With a final push, he propelled Dad in the bathroom, and slammed the door shut, locking it from the outside.

He ignored the drumming sound of Roger trying to get out, jumped over a chair that'd fallen over, ignored Mom who was crying her eyes out. The one crying person he didn't ignore was Kim, who he took gently by the shoulder into the apartment, quickly across towards the room.

"Gabe- Kim- my babies…" Mom sobbed, trying to reach for Kim.

"No!" Gabe yelled, pulling Kim away. "Don't touch her, you're stinking drunk and I don't want you touching her!"

She sobbed some more and reached out.

He slapped her hand away. "You are not needy, you have a problem and we 'aint fixing it for you!"

"Gabe…" She sobbed. Kim felt herself crying harder, and then some part of her felt guilty for imposing that on Gabe. How he had to take care of everything…

He pushed Kim to the room and locked the door behind them. He hit the wall with his palm and collapsed on the bed, holding his head. Kim took her hand off her lip. The right side of her mouth felt like it was pulsing, but there was barely any blood on her fingertips.

"Gabe, you okay?" She asked. He looked up at her.

"God, Kim, you're the one who got hit. Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine, it wasn't hard." Kim said.

"He still hit you."

"You got hit, Kim." His face was full of pain and distraught, like he was face to face with a fuzzy red-eyes tarantula in the hands of a creepy clown, lounging in the mouth of a furry monstrous beast with teeth. Like this was his worst nightmare. "They say that people who deal with this as kids have really bad futures. You know, money problems, emotional problems…"

"Gabe," Kim said. Gabe looked her in the eyes.

"I thought I could stop that from happening to you. God, Kim, I really thought so."

"Gabe, it's not like it's your fault." She said. "Don't… Don't feel bad about it, they brought this on themselves. The drinking, the money problems…"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that they have a right to bring it on you." Gabe said. He opened his arms to her and she buried herself there.

Her parents weren't safe, it was like walking on eggshells. It'd been that way for a while. First her dad when she was in preschool, and her mom had lasted a few more years until she slowly drifted away. Gabe was about fourteen when they finally lost her for good. That'd been… What, three years ago?

But Gabe… Gabe had always been safe.

"I'm your big brother, Kimmy. I'm supposed to protect you." He said, looking at her with the saddest eyes Kim had seen on any face.

"You can't do everything Gabe." She said. "You can't fix this."

"No," he said. "But I can make it better. I can give you better protection."

Kim didn't argue. Her lip was still pulsing, and she didn't want to hear more about Gabe being so… so lost, nor of her needing protection.

"Should I sneak out and get you some ice for your lip?" Gabe asked. "Yeah, I think I will…" He said getting up.

"No, it's okay Gabe!" She said. She didn't want him to move, she didn't want him to go back outside the safe little room. "It doesn't hurt."

"Sometimes ice managed to keep the pain and swelling down for the next day." Gabe said. And he said it so matter-of-factly, Kim suddenly wondered…

"I'll just tell 'em that I ran into something," she said. "Do you think they'd buy it if I said that a meteor fell through the roof?"

"No." Gabe said.

"Hey… That's the one thing missing from the sky… Meteors and asteroids."

"Well, I can fix that." Gabe said, taking the marker from his bedside table and getting up, making the mattress unstable.

And that night, Kim felt asleep propped against Gabe who was propped against the wall.

* * *

><p>Gabe had made her wait for him before going out of the room. Usually one of them would change in the room and the other in the bathroom, but Gabe had been very thorough about her not leaving the room without him. So she'd snuck in the closet and changed there, waiting for his 'okay I'm dressed' to come out.<p>

Besides; Roger was still in the bathroom. The pulsing in Kim's lip promised her that it hadn't been just a horrible, horrible nightmare.

The door opened and they saw Mom passed out on the couch. Or sleeping. But most likely passed out considering a whole new bottle of champagne had been popped open, and was now abandoned on the ground.

Gabe didn't bother waking her up, and Kim followed his lead. He unlocked the bathroom door for Dad (who didn't show), grabbed a jar of peanut butter and two slices of bread, and they ate on their ways to school. Gabe had stolenthe car keys and brought them to school to make sure neither of them would drive today. His explanation was something like "Nobody deserves to get hurt or die because they rotted up inside".

They walked the whole time together, like Gabe always insisted on doing because he said that broad daylight or not, he didn't want Kim alone in the city at rush hour.

They split up in the parking lot.

"Look, I have a wrestling practise tonight. Why don't you come watch?"

"I have homework," Kim said.

"Bring it, you'll multitask. Then I want you to come to work with me, kay? I don't want you home alone." Gabe said.

Kim didn't want to be home alone either, so she nodded.

A few people asked Kim about her lip, which hadn't puffed out as badly as Kim had expected it to, but it'd puffed up all the same. She said that she'd been hit when she'd been pulling on something her brother was pulling, and he'd let go so it'd flied in her face. People bought it, but not Gwennie, Gwennie went sprawl-eyed.

She caught hold of Kim's arm between periods and dragged her in the bathroom and demanded to know if it was about her parents. After Kim swore on her grandmother's grave (her grandmother wasn't dead, she'd just disinherited Julianne) that it wasn't her parents (because if she said yes, Gwennie would crack and someone in the police or school staff would know), Gwennie felt better and left it alone.

At work, Gabe told Kim that he had to work in the back, so she'd just have to hang out behind the counter with one of Gabe's friends from work, Tessa, a really pretty and nice girl that Kim wanted Gabe to start going out with.

About an hour or so later, Gabe came to tell her that she could pack up. But the weird thing was that his cheeks were bright red, like he'd just been outside in the bitter autumn air. Not in the back of the store. But she didn't say anything.

* * *

><p>It was weird; her schedule had gone on like this.<p>

Gabe did everything in his power to keep her out of the apartment. But she still knew what was going on; Mom was drunk or hung-over most of the time, probably because Gabe was pushing her away from Kim (which the later was thankful for). And as for Dad, Gabe didn't talk or look at him, and he wasn't around much anyways. Maybe he'd gone back to work to try and impress Gabe, because after a yelling match the day after 'the catastrophe', they both knew everything about everything they'd done.

Something in Gabe had become tough; like armour. Armour for a shining knight to protect Kim.

She spent more time than usual at Gwennie's house, but Bridget and Hannah seemed to avoid her since the half-day incident. As if they thought that Kim was just taking advantage of free rides and things like that. It made her turn over inside a bit. With what, she wasn't sure, but it didn't feel good.

And every time she went to work with Gabe, he'd work in the back and come back with rosy cheeks. Kim didn't know where he actually _went, _but she knew it wasn't the storeroom of the pharmacy, or electronic store.

Then one day, he didn't bring Kim to work.

"Where are we going Gabe?" She asked.

"I have to show you something." Gabe said.

"What is it?"

Her brother swallowed like it was hard. "You'll see."

"I don't want to see, I want to know." Kim said.

"Sucks to be you," Gabe said. He grinned at her, but it was forced.

"Yeah it does," Kim teased tugging his arm. "Tell me or I won't go."

"You're too curious not to follow me," Gabe said. Dang it, he was right.

She soon recognised an alternative route to Central Park.

"Why are we here?" Kim asked.

"I told you, I want to show you something." Gabe said. Kim followed him into the park and what she saw made her squint.

"Gabe? Gabe- is that a… Camp?" She asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Sure is."

"That's what you wanted to show me? Girl scouts camping in Central Park?"

"They're not girl scouts," Gabe said. "Trust me on this one."

They walked closer and all of a sudden, two girls jumped from a tree, knocking Gabe to the ground and pinning him.

Kim let out a shriek, and she stumbled back, looking for someone to call for help because she was sure she wouldn't be able to fight off both girls at once no matter how much she kicked and screamed. Besides, Gabe wasn't fighting.

"Stop," one said. "Never mind, Vita it isn't an attacker. It is him again."

The two girls got off Gabe, who got up and brushed his football team jacket off.

"Thanks," he said.

"Thou have great courage to come here again," one girl said. "We were ready to slay thee on sight!"

"I know, but I talked to one of you the other day… I don't know which, blonde hair and green eyes? Pretty young, chatty, big smile?"

"That would be Lucy, curse her fearless socialism." The girl muttered.

"What did she tell you?" The other girl, Vita, demanded.

"She told me that no matter what first impression I'd gotten, you guys weren't that bad. You saved people. Well, you saved girls." Gabe said.

Kim got a really bad feeling when Gabe said that.

"Gabe!" She said.

"Kimmy, let me explain-" he said.

"You didn't tell me about this!"

"Stop," the first girl to speak said. "Explain thou self, boy, I am not particularly forgiving today, and no more with thou kind."

"Gabe-" Kim begged.

"Our parents are alcoholics." Gabe said. Something in her melted right away. Knowing the truth and hearing the words were two different things.

"I thought I could take care of them, the house and Kim at the same time, but I can't. And I don't care about any of those things ending up badly, except for Kimmy."

"Gabe!" Kim protested. "You stop talking _right now!" _

"But if the girl I talked to the other day was right, Lucy you called her, you could…"

"Gabe, shut up, I am fine!" Kim protested. She didn't want to join a girl group of some kind, she didn't want to be taken away from home. Because that would be taken away from Gabe.

"No you're not, Kim." Gabe said sharply turning towards her. "I didn't tell you, but this isn't the first time Dad throws punches at me. And I can handle it; I can usually just say I took a hard fall at the last wrestling practise or whatever… But you can't take it, and I'd hate myself if you did."

"Gabe, don't, you're not in charge of me!" Kim said.

"I'm your big brother," Gabe cut. "You come first to me, Kimmy. And if I can't manage your safety by myself… Well, here's a way I can make sure you'll be safe."

"By just handing me off to strangers?" Kim asked.

"I trust them," Gabe said. "They tried to, like, kill me just then, but I trust them. It's a good feeling, Kimmy. A good feeling for you."

"He has good reason to," the lead girl said.

"No- Gabe- that's stupid, I can't just leave. There's school, and Gwennie, and Bridget…"

"There's Mom and Dad."

"There's you." Kim said, trying to make him understand that that was a pretty big point.

"And there's the bottle." Gabe said sharply. "You can't fight against that, Kimmy. You just can't."

He called her Kimmy again. Like whenever he felt bigger and older and more responsible of her.

"Look, I'm eighteen in a couple of months. With the money that isn't going to sports and food, I've got enough for an apartment. Working two jobs, right? That's what it was for all along. Then I'm out of there, and Mom and Dad can do whatever they want to each other. But I can't support you, and I can't stay there longer because one of us will just get really, really hurt. What if I got hurt, Kimmy? Who'd take care of you? And if you got hurt… If you got hurt I wouldn't forgive myself."

"They're not that bad." Kim said. "There are worst parents."

"Yeah, well that's not good enough." Gabe said. "I want you to have the best chances humanely possible. And if this is it… I spoke to the leader too, yesterday. She found me on the street, asked me what was up, why I'd disturbed her camp, et cetera."

"That's where you've been instead of at work…" Kim realised.

"Yeah," he said. "Looking around for a way to make things better. I've been looking for decent schools, but that was too expensive; and girl scout groups wouldn't keep you out of the house long enough… I found a group called Alateen. It's a group of kids with alcoholic adults in their lives; mostly parents."

"You could've taken me," Kim said.

"I could've," Gabe admitted. "But I didn't. And they said that the best thing to do is to stay out of their way until they admit there's a problem, and then it's all hands on deck to fix it. So you don't get hurt. And I've got to get that done for you. This is the best way."

"Gabe…" Kim said.

"Kim, is that your name?" The girl said. Kim turned towards the girl who'd talked, Vita.

"Kimberlyn Ugliano," she nodded.

"Kim," the girl inclined her head. "It's hard to leave people you love behind, I know. Believe me. It's been years and years since I joined the hunt, and I still think about them- the people I left behind. Not all of them were good, but some of them were friends. But in the end, I don't regret joining."

"You wouldn't either," Gabe said.

"I can't leave you Gabe, you're my brother." Kim said.

"Which is why I've got to do this. Which is why I've got to protect you." Gabe said. She met her brother's eyes. She remembered the look on his face after she'd gotten hit by Roger. How hurt that'd been. How hard he looked, how insistent he was now…

Was this really the best way to help her brother? Was this the best thing to do, for herself, for her brother?

"Gabe, I don't know," Kim sighed. She thought to his face again. "Do you really want me out of the house?"

"More than anything," he said. "I don't want you spending the next six years of your life under the same roof as them. I don't want you to end up with their problems, their failures. Or on the streets, doing drugs or something."

"I wouldn't," Kim said. "I promised no alcohol, remember? When I was six?"

"Kim, there's all kinds of things that could go wrong," Gabe said. His brown eyes had melted, like chocolate going from bar form to fondue. He was _begging _her. Gabe Ugliano was _begging _her. "Please just go right."

And her resistance all melted when he begged her to go. When he begged her to go with this girl school group or other that would take care of her since he thought he couldn't.

She hugged her brother and said she'd miss him. She still felt safest in his arms, even if she wasn't six anymore. That was because Gabe had been her brother forever, he'd been there for her forever. And she always thought he would be. Part of her brain yelled out 'No, no, no, no'.

She felt unsafe when he let go, and when the hunters brought her to camp.

But a few months later, she still thought about Gabe, she still missed him so; but she was safe with the hunters, and she knew it. She felt it.

She hadn't felt this completely safe –even with the monsters- in every setting and situation a while.

* * *

><p><em>About 25 years later<em>

The hunters filed through the door of the SoHo gallery Artemis had sent them too. Apparently there was a relic hidden amongst the statues hat had to be recovered as soon as possible; a ring that turned people invisible. Most of the hunters who'd been born in the later part of the last century were making Lord of the Ring jokes. The older girls looked at them confused, and it was good for laughs.

"Okay, we'll split up." Thalia said. "Stay with your partner, and be back when you hear the hunting corn. Or crackling lightning. Maybe a wolf or a whistle, I haven't decided yet."

And so Kim grabbed Kasumi's arm and they were off on the floor that Thalia had told them to explore: statues and stuff.

"They're ugly, they look so… Dead…" Kasumi said.

"They're statues, they were never alive." Kim said. "Hey, think Elissa would like these?" She said jokingly, pointing to a cement replica statue of a god.

"She's a sucker for those white statues," Kasumi said. "They remind her of home."

They examined each statute. After dubbing a statue of a little boy harmless and clean of rings, Kim spun around to look at the statue there and she gasped.

"What?" Kasumi asked, turning around quickly, hand going for the bow tied onto her quiver.

"That's… No…" Kim said. She walked towards the statue slowly but surely. The table was wood, the chairs so too. The chips looked glued to the table, but Kim didn't care about some poker game. The player was the point of interest.

He was in his mid-forties, and quite honestly not the prettiest thing to look at. He looked like the kind of man who sat home in his own filth. But what really scared Kim was the shape of his nose, of his mouth, of his eyes… There was a scar on his ear. He was dirty, he'd gained some weight and lost some hair; but she recognised that face.

Gabe Ugliano.

The poker player. With a beer in his hand.

A beer in his hand…

He looked like her Mom had. He was actually _like _her mom. Beautiful when he was younger, and now… Now… Now he just looked like he couldn't take care of himself.

There was a beer in his hands.

Kim put her hands against her mouth and whimpered.

"Kim? Kim?" Kasumi took her shoulder and looked to and from the statue. "Kim, what's wrong? You tell me this instant!"

"That's… That's my brother…" Kim stuttered. "With a… He'd promised! Oh gods, he'd _promised." _

"Kim, I don't get it, you have to be clearer." Kasumi said gently, a hand on Kim's shoulder.

"That's my brother," she said. "I swear to the gods, it's him, just older and… With a beer…"

"Come," Kasumi said taking Kim by both shoulders. "You're in shock of some sort."

"No," Kim said, yanking herself out of Kasumi's well-meaning grip. She looked down at the plate near the statue.

_The Poker Player_

_Cement statue by Sally Jackson _

Kasumi tried to take her arm again, and this time, she let herself get dragged away.

* * *

><p>Kim checked on the piece of paper Thalia had scribbled an address on in her big loopy writing. When Kim had told the lieutenant about what she'd seen in the art gallery, Thalia had nearly choked on supper and told her that the woman was Percy Jackson's mother, and had quickly given Kim and address.<p>

Yeah; she had the right place. She took a deep breath and knocked.

The door opened to a woman with brown hair, shot with grey at places, and eyes that were a blue gray color.

"Hello," she told Kim.

Kim swallowed. "Hi, are you Sally Jackson?"

"Yes, that would be me. How can I help you?" She asked. She didn't look suspicious that Kim might be a monster like most demigod parents might. Then again, according to Thalia she was clear-sighted, like Kim and all the other mortals in the hunt had become.

"I'm… I'm looking for information on my brother."

"Sweetheart, I don't know all the half-bloods at Camp. But I could go wake up Percy if…"

"No, he's not a demigod." Kim said. "His name's Gabe Ugliano."

Sally became pale in the face.

"Oh… Oh god he… He had a sister? A little sister I… I never knew, I don't understand…"

"I saw the statue." Kim said. Her teeth dug into her lip.

She really wondered why. Why someone would do that to Gabe… Why he was holding a beer… Why he was gambling away in his own sweat and dirt… That statue had opened a million doors to one she'd assumed closed. She'd always imagined Gabe living in a loft, with a beautiful wife, and the most adorable children who dropped toys all over said loft, and a job as quarterback on a NFL team or on Wall Street or _something… _

Sally closed her eyes and for a second, she seemed to hurt. Really hurt. Not just be scared of what this girl with the bow and knives might do –then again, if she knew enough about the demigod world she wouldn't be scared- or guilt… Real hurt.

"Come in, I have a story to tell you." She said.

* * *

><p>Kim cried.<p>

She was fully ready to admit that she cried. Hard. When Sally told her the story of how Gabe had been nice at the beginning, and how he'd covered Percy's scent as an advantage, and how he'd been sweet… And then how everything had warped and changed. She told him that he was the manager of the Electronics Mega-Mart in Queens –which he'd always done, and how he smoked, and drank…

That's when the water works had started kicking in.

"_She has a problem. Like Dad." _

"_Everyone has that problem," she said, curling up on herself more, and hugging her blanket. A horrible thought struck Kim. "Gabe don't you ever have that problem! Don't you ever say you hate me!" _

"_Of course not, kiddo. I will never, ever touch a drop of wine or beer or whatever. I promise I won't fall in that hole."_

Sally had stopped talking and offered Kim her hand. This was visibly just as hard for her as it was for Kim, and she was understanding it. Some part of her wanted to yell at Sally that she was lying and that there must be a mistake because _her _brother, _her _Gabe Ugliano, _her _protected, would never do any of those things. But her mind flashed back to the cement statue and to Sally's face and she couldn't kid herself.

Kim took her hand.

And then the water works had turned into flooding when she'd started talking about _why _she'd taken out the gorgon's head. About everything from Gabe adopting her as slave, to the way he treated Percy, and finally the hitting…

"It started one night when Percy was in fifth grade, I think. He was at a boarding school and so he wasn't around during the school year. And Gabe… Gabe was drunk. Drunk as a lord." Sally said. "And I think I tried to get him to go rest and he just turned around and smacked me."

Kim flinched. She still remembered the sound of flesh hitting flesh. From when her parents got at it, to when Roger had smacked her, to when this, to when that… She wondered how bad Gabe had had it once she'd left, once again.

"And I think he always remembered that night and he just kept coming at it because I didn't do anything. I _couldn't _do anything, no matter how much I wanted to, he was the only thing keeping my son safe…"

"_They say that people who deal with this as kids have really bad futures. You know, money problems, emotional problems…"_

"I hated every second I spent flinching, or worrying about going home, or having Percy home because I didn't want to see… Percy came back from his first quest with a gorgon head, he put it on his bed and he said 'here you go'."

_I'd have done it, _a small part of Kim thought to the rest of her. _If I had to deal with a man like that and I didn't have my bows and arrows and knives, I'd have done it too. _

"He didn't ever hit Percy did he?"

Sally's eyes widened in panic.

"Thank who is to thank that no, he didn't."

Kim nodded. He'd never have swooped that low. Then again, she'd never imagined Gabe swooping to the level he'd died at. It was like someone who had a fear of heights free-falling from an airplane. But the look on his face when Kim had gotten punched in the mouth said it all.

"Kim, this wasn't your fault." Sally said, as if reading into what she thought. She shook her head.

"It was. It was entirely my fault. He thought I was safe, he let them do whatever and he let himself get bounced around, and he never went to university and he tried to forget his problems with the- oh gods, I can't believe he broke his promise!"

In a fit of tears Kim had to explain everything. She was years older now, even if her mind and body would beg to differ, but she remembered everything clearly. Sally seemed good at understanding teenage girls through cascades of tears somehow, and she just gave Kim's hand a squeeze.

"You know what Kim? I think you gave him a reason to be good. You gave him a reason to say no, and to come home sober every night, even to _come _home. And then once you were safe… I don't think he cared enough, and things got too hard, and even good people crack."

"And become bad people."

Sally didn't even try to defend that.

"You joined the hunt for a good reason, Kim. Maybe Gabe wasn't strong enough to deal with this anyways."

"Gabe was the strongest person I knew."

"There are a lot of strong people out there, but very few can hold up the sky." Sally said. Kim thought for a second.

Gabe had told her to go. He may not have wanted it, but she wasn't responsible for what he did no more than he was responsible for what she would do. And she knew a lot of good people who hadn't cracked- who had found solutions instead of doing so. She knew a million of them from the hunt, even from dreaded Camp Half-Blood, or just news and history. Gabe had made a mess of things, it wasn't _her _fault.

But it just went to show that good people can crack, and then the only way you can recognise them is a detail as tiny as a scar.

* * *

><p><strong>Next<strong>

_River, I think you need to visit her side. _A dolphin said hesitantly after a bit.

"What's wrong? Is she sick? She's been sick a lot lately…" River worried.

Nobody replied.

_Mommy, I never met a nymph named Pacific, who is she? _A baby dolphin asked. 


	10. River

**Well, hasn't it been forever since I last posted? *slaps herself* Without a good sneak peak to guess on... All because this chapter was hard to write. But I'm back on track now! I even tapped into the time I was supposed to commit to lame and totally-unnecessary projects for this. Ta-dah! **

**Anyways I hope you enjoy it!**

****Disclaimer: don't own the real hunters who appear, Rick Riordan's portrayal of their leader, or the PJO world.****

* * *

><p><span>River<span>

_1995_

Her toe poked a plastic bag, floating at the surface. It was disgusting and waterlogged, and plastic, and… A shiver went down her spine. Yuck! Gosh, really people?

Then she saw something else floating in the water and she went up to investigate.

It was the kind of plastic twirly thing that she saw _all the time, _and that held together packs of 6 cans according to Lord Poseidon, who came to visit and check on them every now and then.

She let out a groan, but picked it up. She snapped her fingers and tied it together with the other bundle of trash that waited in her patch of ocean (36 acres, all to herself) until Lord Poseidon came by and blew it up into disintegration- which always felt good to watch.

Thankfully, this time she'd gotten to it before a dolphin had. Did you know how hard it was to save a dolphin from chocking or getting all tangled in that? Did you know how sad it was to realise you were too late when you felt how limp the dolphin in question was?

She'd always like dolphins. She liked fish and anemones and jellyfish and stingrays just fine. The coral had pretty shades of colour and life, the seaweed was fun to hide in, whales were fun to talk to, turtles always had the best life stories to share, but she had a soft spot for dolphins. Their little shrill cries, their friendly and playful behaviour, how they were all different from each other…

River dove back into her piece of sea, and kicked until she was at the same level as her neighbour, Pacific. Pacific was the prettiest Oceanid River knew; probably the most beautiful nymph in the whole ocean, period. Her blue and green skirts swirled around her every time she moved, her fingers were long and graceful, her ears pointed, and her hair was brown like driftwood and it floated around her, streaming like a comet's tail when she swam really fast.

"Hey," she said.

"Hello," Pacific replied.

"How is it today?" River asked nervously. Water quality was tough nowadays; it had been for a while.

"Horrible," she groaned. "A fishing boat or something passed and decided they wouldn't be at the shore quick enough to dispose of a myriad of junk, or… or… I don't know, but the water's a mess."

"I was talking to my other neighbours; they said the same thing." River nodded. "When do you reckon it'll stop?"

"I don't know, but Poseidon just came by to cleanse everything yesterday. He won't be back for a while," Pacific said, sounding worried.

"There's too much ocean for _one _god to clean." River said, twisting her hands together.

Her patch was already being soiled beyond belief, worse than ever; and River had been around a long time to see a lot of soiling. She found dead fish, funky substances, news bits and bobs humans used to wrap gods-knew-what every day. And it got her worried and worried.

"It'll be okay," she said to Pacific. "We'll be fine."

* * *

><p><em>Two years later<em>

River was playing with a dolphin, which should've guaranteed that today would be a good one.

A flock of dolphin was passing through her patch on their usual migratory road, and they'd stopped to play. She'd found a broken rubber duck, and she was shooting it to the other side of her territory to keep the little ones busy while the adults talked to her. She clung on to one's back fin and glided behind him through the water. She did flips with them, jumped in and out of the water; it was the perfect afternoon.

_River, have you seen Pacific? _The elder dolphin mother said.

River stopped playing.

"Seen Pacific? What do you mean 'have I seen Pacific?' She's right next door. Didn't you cross her territory to get here? Didn't she say hi?"

The dolphins all looked at her, and she knew that if they'd be like nymphs or the fishermen, they'd be sprawl eyed.

"What?" River asked.

_We didn't cross her path, _the elder dolphin mother repeated. River ran a schema of this group's migration path through her head. They should've…

_We couldn't, _a baby said, _and so we had to make a wide turn and it was hard to swim and my fins were very tired but I made it because I'm a big boy like Mama says and can you shoot the duck again?_

River did, half-heartedly. Not because she was sick of the dolphin; but out of fear.

The babies were all after it.

_River, I think you need to visit her side. _A dolphin said hesitantly after a bit.

"I think so too. What's wrong? Is she sick? She's been sick a lot lately…" River worried.

Nobody replied.

_Mommy, I never met a nymph named Pacific, who is she? _A baby dolphin asked.

River's water got caught in her gills (the ocean version of your breath caught in your chest), and she immediately swam out of her side, not even saying goodbye to the dolphins.

She was all of the water in her territory, so she was able to pop in and out at any side of her patch. It was part of the beauty of being an ocean nymph. She could even pop up in the Indian Ocean if she wanted too, though why she'd want to do that she wasn't quite sure. The Oceanids in the Indian Ocean didn't get along with those in the Pacific Ocean; they were much too uptight and serious.

She looked left and right for her beautiful friend.

"Pacific? Pacific!" She yelled. She searched throughout the sector, swam up and down…

Then she saw something.

"Oh thank Poseidon and Amphitrite," she sighed in relief, taking off towards it. Pacific swam towards what she saw as fast as she could, eager to find her friend and find why she wasn't responding to her.

But she slowed down. That wasn't her friend.

It looked like a wall advancing towards River, like it would run her over. Except it wasn't a wall of pearl-dust bricks, tiled sand dollars, or coral like Poseidon's palace. River actually had no idea what it was until she started reading one word over and over.

** Coca-Cola**

Something snapped inside of her head, releasing a whole lot of fear at once.

That was a wall of trash; a great clump of everything she hated all in one place; all in one territory.

She backed off terrified, looking up and down and left and right. She shot at the surface and popped her head out of the water, and saw that the wall of trash wasn't a wall at all. It poked through at the surface, making it an island. An island of mingling manmade materials like plastic and glass and aluminum; bright colours to attract the eye towards whatever those boxes had contained before they'd been thrown into the ocean.

How..? That wasn't possible. There was a lot of trash and crap in the ocean, but there couldn't be _that _much trash and crap! Not enough to build a… An island…

And island of trash on Pacific's territory.

"Pacific!" River wailed again. "Pacific where are you!"

River dove back down, looked frantically, scanned the surface and spotted something floating. It was too big to be a piece of trash and not colourful enough to be another mini-island. She front crawled towards the point of interest with her head out of the water, her eyes on the prize, and she stopped right there.

It was Pacific, except as white as those pesky air spirits. She was as pale as a sheet, her hair drained of the warm brown colour, as well as being rugged and damaged. All colours had evacuated her skirts, and she was as limp as a rag doll.

"Pacific!" River said. She couldn't say more, as if she'd only learned that one word in the Ancient Greek language, as if there was only that in the world to know about.

She cradled her best friend against herself. Her hands looked bright and colourful next to her, her robes were the same; her hair was a burst of colour against her best friend's lack-of.

She patted Pacific on the cheek lightly, praying to Poseidon the god of the ocean, and Lady Amphitrite the protector of Ocean nymphs. Her pats became more and more frantic, and they were suddenly smacks.

"Come on, come on, COME ON!" River yelled trying to wake up Pacific. Because Pacific _would _wake up.

The ocean was big and beautiful. But right now River felt isolated and alone and out of anyone's reach, which meant that Pacific would be out of anybody's help.

"Help me!" River yelled. Who cared if a fishing boat came out when they heard English? It was their fault! All their faults! The stupid motors that made them go faster, the lazy men on the deck who would just throw off their garbage instead of bringing it back to shore, the wicked women who gathered all their trash and got rid of it to keep their boat squeaky clean… They _deserved _to see Pacific drained of colour. They _had _to help her, it was their responsibility!

She still looked beautiful, but it was a dead kind of beautiful. Like looking at a sunset, which was bright but would never be seen again.

"Pacific wake up!" River said. Tears were stinging her eyes and she had never, _ever _panicked this hard ever. Not when that dolphin had died in her territory (because she knew that Pacific would come and help her take care of the body), not when that whale had been giving birth in her territory (because she'd known that Pacific would come help her give birth to the baby), not when she'd cut herself on a glass bottle that was supposed to bring some message to land (she'd picked it up and put it in her bundle so Poseidon would clean it up; he'd only later told her that the message was probably a distress call)…

Her eyes fluttered open like the fins of a baby fish; wobbly and weak. Painfully slow, but River felt her insides burst with joy. She held on to Pacific like those drowning sailors held onto life rings (no, River did not save them, what was she, a mermaid?)

"Riv…" Pacific said. Her voice was choppy and pained.

"I'm here Pac," River said. "I'm here, don't worry. We can send a message to the palace and Poseidon will come help you, or I'll find some of that medicinal seaweed…"

"No use…" Pacific croaked. "My land… My patch… It's g…"

"It's not gone!"

"Taken over… No more… Room for… For me…" Pacific said. Her breath was wheezing now.

"It's okay," River said, her brain going on panic mode. Pacific couldn't be right, that couldn't happen… "It's really okay; we can split mine in two."

"No." Pacific said. "Not how it… Works and you… You know it…"

"Pacific, shh. It'll be okay. It's always okay with the two of us. The ocean is such a big place, there is still room for you."

"Maybe but… My territory…"

Pacific coughed and water poured from her mouth. River's head felt light.

Her best friend was coughing up the part of her that was the ocean; the part of her that was immortal; her lifeline…

"Good…" She coughed out more water. "Friend…"

"Stop coughing Pac, stop it right now!" River ordered, terrified out of her mind.

"You were my best friend."

"You're mine too, but come on, we still haven't raced on Stingrays this year, or went pearl hunting, or that end of year feast at the palace to eat those cakes you like so much- come on Pacific, stay alive. Stay alive for that. Don't die."

Salty tears invaded River's eyes; the only time in her life she didn't like salt water.

"If I could… But no. Ocean is dying… Me…"

Pacific coughed out a whole lot more saltwater, stained with gold. Ichor too. The coughing fit went on forever and River just had to try not to cry _really hard. _How could she be comforting to Pacific? Pacific had just denied ever getting any comfort.

"Too…" Pacific said between a horrible cough.

And then her eyes shut, her body was rattled with coughing for a few more seconds, and then the last of the saltwater spewed out of Pacific's mouth, and she died.

River only held the body for seconds; it disappeared from her arms in seconds.

"NO!" She yelled after a few seconds of being dumfound and empty armed. "NO!"

She yelled a lot and swam around in a rampage.

Then she turned towards the island. The island that'd polluted Pacific so bad she'd died.

She yelled and charged, kicking and punching at the wall. At the aluminum cans, at the tubs of juice, the milk containers, the beer bottles, the water bottles… She kicked and kicked and kicked and screamed and punched and thrashed like a water demon.

"We don't need you in the world!" She yelled at the island. "We need Pacific!"

She yelled some more and kicked again and she didn't think she'd ever get tired of it. Of trying to punish it for being in _her _water while it should be kept at the surface with the other surface crap.

Then she was nudged in her bare back. She turned around and saw the baby dolphin from earlier, and the whole flock of dolphins. She knew tears were streaming down her cheeks.

Two dolphins slid under her arms, and brought her wordlessly away from the island. Then they slid out from underneath her arms and she floated alone in the water.

_Are you okay?_ A dolphin asked.

River nodded.

_Do you want us to stay? _The elder dolphin asked.

"I'm fine. Get out of here, you guys. You don't want to be around this place much longer."

_Should we go pass a message to Poseidon? _

"Don't change your migration path; the babies need to learn the right way to go." River said. "But if you _do _see him, or a mermaid, or someone from the palace… I don't know how much they'll be able to help, but please tell them."

_We'll do our best, River. _One promised. The baby dolphins nudged her and the flock swam away.

* * *

><p>"River," someone said. She turned around and saw a nymph who lived on the left of Pacific; Merlia. River worried that Merlia may have no idea about Pacific yet, even if it'd been a day.<p>

"What is going on?" She asked. Merlia was older than Pacific and River; and so high up on the totem pole she could get a message to Poseidon's palace in five seconds flat, and knew all about the ocean. She was rather quiet and silent.

River shut her eyes and willed herself not to cry. When she trusted herself and her crazy emotions enough; she opened her eyes and explained.

"So this thing," River finished, "Just sits there and-"

The sound of motors pierced through the silence like a swordfish on the hunt.

"No way are they coming back to do more damage," River said between her teeth. "They've done enough! If they can't leave the ocean how they found it, then they should just leave it alone!"

"River…"

"They've lost the right to explore it! They've lost it! They've been going on our home, our territories for a million years and exploring it- and that's all right, because it's a beautiful place. But now that they're ruining it, it's not! They're taking its beauty away and replacing it by trash!" River said furious.

"River honey, I don't think that these boats are fishermen." Merlia said. The two Oceanids swam to the surface, emerging and looking around. There were boats everywhere and it was a big thing. TV newscast cameras were filming the island, and River had no idea why. To make it famous? Why did it have to be famous- why couldn't it just die alone?

Some people with logos for laboratories and institutes on their jackets, clothes and/or caps were taking water samples (which River thought was unnecessary. Status: dirty like Hades with chemicals from the trash and colouring).

The news reporter kept talking and talking to the little camera, in the little mic that River wanted to splash really badly. She didn't care for humans anymore. She couldn't care less.

Another boat pulled up with a siren, which made all the strange humans investigate it, because that surely meant it was more important than them.

The woman stepped over the safety guard and stood on the bow of the boat; the very front.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I ask that you please leave the site immediately." The woman said. They all started acting up and asking why in the world they should possibly leave.

_Because this is your fault and now it's our problem, and you made it in the first place, so can't you leave it alone?_

"I'm Doctor Amelia Triton, PhD. It has been determined by the UN and the Marine Conservation Organisation that you are to leave this patch of ocean until further notice, and I hold here a signed letter. I have with me police from the INTERPOL, and US Navy should arrive any time." She said "So leave."

That's when River recognised her. She wore a parka, jeans, and a green cap with a logo on it that River couldn't make out since she didn't read more than Ancient Greek. Her black hair was tied up strictly; and there were two small bumps on either side of her head.

Lady Amphitrite had come at last.

One by one the boats sped off. When it seemed that it were gone, Lady Amphitrite looked both ways as if crossing a street in the village near the palace. Then she jumped off the bow and tucked her legs in, landing in the water.

River and Merlia dove back down. Lady Amphitrite was perfectly at ease in the water, despite her mortal clothes.

"Your highness," Merlia and River said at once, inclining.

"Rise," the Queen of the oceans said. The nymphs obeyed.

"The nymph who occupied that patch of ocean- where is she?" Lady Amphitrite asked.

"Dead," Merlia said for River's sake. "Her name was Pacific."

"I know what her name is," Lady Amphitrite said. River liked how she said 'is'.

"Have you come to destroy this island?" River asked.

Lady Amphitrite shook her head. "I've come to clear away the press for a while, and pass a message."

River's throat tightened.

"What do you mean, you won't destroy it? It's killing the ocean, taking up space…"

"I wish I could," Lady Amphitrite said. "Believe me. My Lord Poseidon shares that wish. But the mortals are responsible for this, and now, the gods insist that they repair their own problem."

"Well they didn't do it on time!" River said. "They didn't do it on time for Pacific!"

"And they may not do it on time for you, or Merlia." Lady Amphitrite said. "But the bottom line is: they have to do it. Demeter is surrendering her eternal pick-up of trash on the land so they learn their responsibility. Artemis is letting the poachers get a little bit closer- but of course that won't last- in the hopes that they learn the limits to which they can hunt. Zeus is letting the fumes and acid rain come from his clouds and into his air. It's not just here. It's everywhere that mortals need to learn to do their part."

River still found this unfair, but Lady Amphitrite had been kind to she and Merlia, and it wasn't time to push it.

* * *

><p>Eventually the humans came back, with TV crews and marine biologists and insulted environmentalists. By helicopter, boat, hydroplane… They even gave the island a name even, which insulted River because they hadn't given the patch of ocean it'd destroyed a name. They called it 'The Great Pacific Garbage Patch' and made a huge deal about it. Which insulted River too; because big patches of trash and such weren't the only thing in the ocean that was -which they had another name for- 'pollution'. What about those individual plastic pieces, sheets of saran wrap, water bottles, and plastic bags before? What were they, worthless? Did they not matter to all those ecosystems in the ocean? To the Oceanids and mermaids and sea vegetation and gods?<p>

_Humans_ insulted River.

* * *

><p>It was growing.<p>

River was sure. That island- the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, Pacific Trash Vortex or _whatever- _was growing.

* * *

><p>Lord Triton had come that morning to explain the phenomenon to the neighbouring Oceanids.<p>

The currents at certain places attracted all the trash floating about together, like a vortex. When it all reunited, it stuck and made the island. And it just so happened that all the trash came to Pacific's territory and life force.

And the currents hadn't just stopped after one Oceanid died. And of course the rest of the trash wasn't picked up; so it just kept coming and taking up space.

And it was growing on River's territory now.

* * *

><p>River's patch of ocean had been a proud and big; 36 acres of territory, all to herself.<p>

Now it was 30 acres, and no longer a perfect square of 6 acres by 6 acres.

* * *

><p>25 acres.<p>

* * *

><p>23 acres.<p>

* * *

><p>17 acres.<p>

* * *

><p>11 acres.<p>

* * *

><p>The dolphins barely came by anymore. In a way, River was glad they didn't because it would be the unhealthiest thing for them to be in this kind of water with these toxins. But she was lonely now. And all her friends were cut off by this 'oh so great' Pacific Vortex Island Trash- <em>whatever. <em>Names were a form of respect; so River would not give it a respectful name. She'd call it the Island of Trash Vortexes and Human Stupidity. That vented out anger every time she said it as well.

* * *

><p>7 acres.<p>

* * *

><p>River lied on her back, floating at the surface. For a moment she felt horrible when she realised that that was kind of what trash did. But she didn't care and she'd let go.<p>

She'd measured it out, and she'd lost a few feet of her territory. 5 acres now.

She felt like punching whoever was responsible for this. Could she? Would she? With every inch that the Island of Trash Vortexes and Human Stupidity (ITVHS) that she lost, she lost a bit of her life. She got tired easier. She got restless, swimming back and forth five acres, on her own.

* * *

><p>1 acre.<p>

No Oceanid should live like this, and River now understood why they didn't; because dying was better than this.

No migrating marine animals, no schools of fish, and walls of jellyfish. Even in the deepest part of her territory, at the bottom of the ocean: there weren't any animals. The only other sign of life were the other humans, and the seagulls who came to peck at the island before flying off again.

There was no space to move, no Oceanids to talk to (since the others liked to keep their distance, and River did not blame them), play with- Oceanids were social and playful nymphs when they weren't on some form of duty for Poseidon. Like most nymphs, come to think of it.

River wondered how she'd ever been playful. Maybe she should have enjoyed it more; enjoyed having nothing to worry about when that was the case. Then again, maybe if she'd savoured the moment, it wouldn't have been as amazing.

And the sickness… River wasn't coughing up saltwater yet. 'Yet' being the sentence's key word, of course. But she was tired. Her limbs felt exhausted and heavy, like anchors that should drag her down. If only she'd drown. She was sick to the stomach and sad, breathing was hard, and her head was light…

She floated on her back at the surface, watching the boats that never left ITVHS, fascinating about their new discovery in their big, big world.

The land was theirs. But the ocean belonged to the fish and animals and nymphs. They could do whatever they wanted to their part of the world, whatever. That was their business. But they had to destroy this whole other world too?

Suddenly a new boat pulled up, a sleek silver motor boat that River thought might be Lady Amphitrite, come to shoo the boats away. Maybe River would be able to die without them in place.

But the boat stopped right at the brim of River's 1 acre, and she saw that it wasn't her goddess, but she was sure it was one.

The girl had auburn hair and odd eyes. Like moonlight, but as liquid as its reflexion on the water. She wore silver, and she held her hand out to River.

"Come with me," she said. "We can save you."

"You can't save me, I'm sick and weak and dying." River said. "I'll die with my home, and I'll die when it dies."

"No," she said. "It doesn't have to be that way. We can get you a new home."

Another girl jumped to the bow.

"My name's Lana," she told River.

"You're that mermaid who joined the Hunters of Artemis," River said, managing to find some thousand year old gossip from the back of her fuzzy mind. Pacific had told her that. The pain in her stomach got worst.

"Yes," Lana said. "And it hurts living on the surface at first, but trust me, it has treasures that the sea world doesn't; just as the sea world has jewels the world doesn't."

"Humans are pigs." River muttered. "Don't want anything to do with them."

"You don't have to," Lana said. "There are nymphs here, demigods, mortals who have learned better. It'll be okay. No humans; especially not the males."

"My home…" River said.

"Will die, yes," The goddess, who must be Artemis, said. "And I'm sorry for it. I won't take you out if you don't wish it, but I can save you."

_Save me… _

But the other part whispered in her ear with words that sailed straight to River's heart that Pacific would've wanted her to do this. She'd have wanted someone to live and remember the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. Nobody would put it in a book of human tragedies, but if someone, somewhere remembered this. If someone, somewhere would know how bad it was, how it had killed so many fish and even an Oceanid… Maybe it'd be better. Maybe it wouldn't be insulting.

"I'll miss the dolphins…" River said, her head dizzying now.

"Of course you will," Artemis said. "That's normal. But you'll probably see them again; we'll probably come back seaside. Take my hand."

And so River did.

* * *

><p><strong>Next<strong>

At the free period she didn't play volleyball with the girls like she always did. She told Molly McDermott and Sandra Santiago that she had something to do (when all she had was something to prove) and she went back to the sword arena to fight, to show her moves, to show how deadly and good she could be. She was begging inside that someone was watching; screeching and pleading for it. ****


	11. Fiona Sheed

**Hola, thanks for last chapter's review/alerts/favourites! **

**Disclaimer: Same as the first! No own, no own, no own... **

* * *

><p><span>Fiona Sheed <span>

1998

She woke up with her fingers crossed. She fell asleep that way every February 4th because when she'd wake up, it'd be February 5th, and that was her birthday.

Every year brought her closer to being claimed. Closer to having a family and a life and a path and _everything _a half-blood wanted_. _Everything that mattered to her, and everything she'd been wanting for forever. She rushed to Cabin 11's bathroom, and she looked in the mirror. No, her face hadn't changed, no burning symbol.

So she got changed and sat on her bunk after making it very neatly and waited for the other kids to wake up. A few of them woke up and they started a quartet of 'Happy Birthday!' Fiona smiled and thanked them after pretending to regain hearing in her ear. She checked for blood after they were all turned away.

She sat at breakfast, eating her toast and crossing her fingers. She tried not to get impatient just yet. She'd done this for 4 years straight; since she was 9 years old and she'd ended up at Camp after her mother had been shot in a lockdown at the school she taught at, and in that time Fiona had learnt that if you wasted all your patience you ended up having breakdowns by lunch.

She went to archery, and she didn't cross her fingers just because she had to shoot the arrow and try to get a bull's eye. Maybe her father would be proud of her and decided that today was the day to claim her. She didn't hit a bull's eyes, but she got really close. She didn't get claimed either.

She crossed her fingers under her desk during Ancient Greek and started thinking about all the gods and which one would be her father. Which one might be looking down at her right there and then? Which cabin would she be in?

She paddled like a mad woman in the canoe lake. If she showed strength and endurance; someone up there would be proud of her.

That's how she managed to beat every kid in the cabin during footraces. She already pawned, but today, she ran like there was a hellhound rampage behind her.

She brushed her hair, a colour beyond rare and odd trapped between auburn and caramel, like her mother's, behind her ear and looked up at the sky once she'd beat one of the nymph instructors. Her heart was pounding at such a speed it deserved a speeding ticket and her lungs were grasping for air, the back of her legs burning as she walked it off; but she was still hopeful.

In vain.

At lunch she barely ate. She'd done better in training this past morning than she ever had.

But apparently it wasn't enough. Fiona had to do better.

And so she did; at sword fighting she even beat Sebastian Gardaí, the instructor, son of Ares. The Hermes cabin cheered for her and she hoped, deep in her heart yet at the top of her mind, that her Father was just as impressed.

But apparently he wasn't.

In Arts and Crafts she did her best with the dagger and the son of Hephaestus over watching, Tommy Smith, promised that it was okay for someone who didn't take Arts and Crafts often.

But nothing happened.

She scampered up the climbing wall faster than ever, her feet finding footholds like they had minds of their own and her arms letting her hang as her feet found the next ones. She was moving quickly so she could move once the lava started pouring on her particular section… She rung the bell at the top and even hauled herself over to the top of the climbing wall, right next to the tube that the lava poured out from. That was daredevil brave right there.

But it meant nothing.

So she climbed back down just as fast and went to sit down in the grass, singed around the climbing wall because of the frequent fires and demigods running around in panic and lighting it.

At the free period she didn't play volleyball with the girls like she always did. She told Molly McDermott and Sandra Santiago that she had something to do (when all she had was something to prove) and she went back to the sword arena to fight, to show her moves, to show how deadly and good she could be. She was begging inside that someone was watching; screeching and pleading for it.

Nothing happened and she went back to the Cabin to line up with the other children of Hermes and unclaimed. She walked in a line towards the dinner table.

She sat straight, kept her elbows off the table, didn't talk with her mouth full, didn't pick the veggies off her pizza to go throw them in the forest like she always did… She was _perfect. _She had perfect manners, perfect behaviour, perfect discipline, perfect training, she was at her very best. She'd gone from dust to supernova today.

At the campfire, she knew this was her last chance. She crossed her fingers and prayed a prayer to a god she couldn't even name. She didn't even say 'father'. She just said 'Please. Make it this year. _Please_.'

But it wasn't that year.

Walking back to the cabin, she felt feeble and weak in the limbs. She wasn't good enough apparently, after all that. She felt like she'd throw up and never stop, but instead she burst into tears.

Molly and Sandra came to find her, moving through the crowd of campers, half-bloods who had stopped and starred, and kids from 11 who wanted to comfort her but weren't comforted themselves.

Sandra had been unclaimed for a year before Apollo claimed her. She'd been splinting arrows on the target since they always landed on the bulls-eye, and the golden lyre had floated above her head. It'd been Molly's second day when she'd corrected the year's mythology instructor and the grey owl had hooted above her brown hairline.

Weeks. Days.

Not years. No. Fiona had waited four years; today officially marked four years and thirteen days, and it hurt her like a knife.

She must be bad. She must have done something wrong. Why not?

How hard was it to snap your finger and say 'you're my daughter' when you're an almighty god of Olympus?

_Surely easier than waiting four years, _Molly thought looking at Fiona. _Surely easier than it is to console your friend. _

Chiron even let them stay in the Big House, all together, for the night. Fiona didn't sleep. Sandra eventually dozed off because the night just did that to children of Apollo; but Molly stayed up, in deep thought the whole evening, stroking Fiona's hair and whispering comforting things and bits of poetry, plays or fables she knew her friend liked.

Fiona just couldn't sleep. She replayed her whole life in her head. Had she ever done anything that was truly _that bad?_ She'd played pranks with the Stealth Sisters (Nicole and Anna, two of the Hermes' cabins girls), she'd refused to eat her vegetables when she was little, she'd done all those little things little kids do… But she tried to be so good all the time to be claimed by someone who didn't think she was good enough. Didn't that make up for it? Didn't it?

She didn't have any control about where she was going. Should she try to go to school or was her scent too strong and would it kill her? Was he or she her brother or sister or not? Should she try this and that, or would she be stepping into the territory of one of her father's godly enemies who would kill her for it? She _had _to be claimed. It would be like a landmark in the dessert; it would just help her find her spot, her way. Right now she was so lost and confused.

She needed to be claimed, but she wasn't going to anytime soon. She was despairing.

So eventually she did go to sleep. Crying herself to sleep.

* * *

><p>She woke up in the night when she heard the door open.<p>

"Just this way, I'll give you the key."

"We appreciate thee locking our cabin, Chiron." A girl said. "You must remember last time what thou campers did."

"Oh yes, Zoë, believe me; Artemis hasn't let me forget." Chiron said. Fiona squinted and she saw a group of girls in silver slowly and quietly walking across the room, to the fireplace. They made no noise, like tigers in the woods.

Chiron took a key off a hook in the inside of the fireplace and handed it to the girl who was at front.

"Who is that?" The girl who must be Zoë asked. Fiona felt eyes on her, so she closed hers.

"Fiona Sheed, Molly McDermott and Sandra Santiago," Chiron said. "Fiona is one of our unclaimed half-bloods. Yesterday was her birthday; the fourth she spent here and… Well, she built up her spirits to be claimed."

"That is what I like about the hunters," Zoë said. "Thee don't need to be claimed by thou mother or father, brother or sister, or patron. It doesn't matter who they are. You claim thou own family, thou own rights, thou own rules."

"Not everyone is ready to make the necessary commitments, Zoë. Please don't talk to her about that either. Not right now. Let her recover."

"She must have been truly broken for thee to let her stay here." Zoë said.

"She was, and I wish I could do more to help. Have a good night." Chiron said, and he guided Zoë out.

Fiona's eyes shot open.

_Thee don't need to be claimed by thou mother or father, brother or sister, or patron. You claim thou own family, thou own rights, thou own rules. _

That was so tempting.

She wouldn't need to know who to pray for. Artemis would be with her. She'd be under Artemis' wing, under _somebody's _protection. And reading the myths; she'd always thought Artemis was a cool goddess. She let Olympus slide and rage its own brand of chaos and she did her own thing, with her people, her own rules back in her realm… In a way, it was the opposite of what Fiona had, but it was what Fiona wanted.

Maybe it was time she claimed her own family; her own life instead of waiting for it to come to her on a silver platter.

She looked at Mary and Sandra, her best friends forever. She sighed. Leaving them behind, or the Stealth Sisters, or any of the others in Cabin 11 would be the hardest about this. But they had futures. She felt like she was running around a track. She was moving, but she wasn't going anywhere. It always came back to _who's my godly parent? _without a finish line. Not like Mary who knew she wanted to find the cure for cancer, or Sandra who was going to go into the Olympics as an archer. She knew what she wanted to be when she grew up without knowing how she'd grow up or if it was even safe for her. She couldn't melt down like this every birthday, year after year. And a part of her thought that until she had a family, she would break down like this year after year. Or she'd be miserable, or haunted with questions.

She knew who she'd go talk to tomorrow morning.

* * *

><p><em>11 years later<em>

She was helping Thalia limp back to the elevator back down to New York after the gods had pronounced judgement on the Titan War's outcome, along with Phoebe. Phoebe was filling in Thalia on what she'd missed while she'd been on Olympus instead of Manhattan with the hunters. Fiona wasn't paying much attention. She thought back to what Percy Jackson had said.

13 years old.

That was the limit. After thirteen years old every half-blood, of any gender, any god needed to be in their rightful cabin.

Yeah right, she'd thought. She'd be 13 forever. Mentally she felt 13. Her bone age was 24 now. Either way, one way or another, she'd be claimed any time now. The thought made her stomach flutter, but not quite as hard as eleven years ago at camp. It was a dull twisting sensation instead of a flurry of papery wings.

Her claimed family would stay her family because she was never going to let down either the girl she was propping up, the one propping Thalia up on the other side, or the ones who'd went down ahead of them.

But she'd finally have a blood family; something she hadn't had since her mother had died.

They were waiting for the elevator to come up when Phoebe stopped midsentence.

"What?" Thalia asked. Then she looked at Fiona and she smiled.

"I have… Something…" Phoebe said, fumbling in her pocket. She took out an iPod touch she'd jacked from someone to send a text to Annabeth Chase at some point, and fond a Mirror App. Fiona looked and saw what was glowing above her head. A compass with a glowing N that stood out.

North.

She turned around and saw a man wearing a crisp white suit with white hair, ice and snow frozen on, and icy blue eyes. Icy blue eyes like hers.

"Hello," he said uncomfortably.

There were twenty things Fiona could have said in that moment, but the ADHD took the lead.

"Finally." Fiona snapped. "You're at least eleven years late."

"Fi," Thalia said, squeezing her shoulder. Fiona took a deep breath. This might be a father that had never claimed her until it was law; but before that, he was a god. And gods were temperamental.

"Eleven years plus four. That's fifteen. Fifteen years I've waited and wondered." Fiona finally said, her energy deflating like a balloon whose top hadn't been tied together.

"I'm sorry," Boreas said. "I didn't want you to be laughed at for being the daughter of a minor god."

Fiona understood.

"Well you could have put my mind at rest. My doubt at ease."

"I understand, and I apologise. I don't know if they'll build a cabin at Camp Half-Blood, but you are more than welcome to stay with me in my palace, with your brothers and sisters. There are already five waiting for you, Fiona."

That was like showing a red 'I love Beef' t-shirt to a bull. How dare he? Where had this offer been fifteen years ago? Eleven years ago? Was he taking in his children to be forgiven? Was that it? Fiona couldn't imagine herself wandering through an icy palace wearing long elegant white gowns, she just couldn't. She wasn't a princess of the North wind; she wasn't a half-blood looking for a home now. She'd been once, but she'd gotten herself what she wanted, and she was either now. She was a hunter. And hunters were forever. Hunters stuck together.

"What? You offer this now? You could have given me the one thing I wanted _all along_? You could have given me a family before I went and claimed my own. But now… Now I don't want you. I found something better than blood." Fiona said looking him down. Because she didn't feel the need to bow to him. She owed him nothing. Nothing to this god who'd fathered and then abandoned her and had been too cowardly to claim her.

"Come on Thalia, they have more ambrosia downstairs." Fiona said.

And with that she joined her silver clad adoptive mother, her silver clad adoptive sisters, and ever some legit siblings downstairs.

* * *

><p><strong>Next Chapter<strong>

"I had a good day. Mostly. Except there weren't any free spots in the library, so I had to go outside at lunch, and it was lonely," she said. For a second she just watched Jena drag her pennies into new groups with her fingertips. "I think I might even know how lonely you are. But you don't feel lonely, do you Jena? You just lock us out."


	12. Stephanie Garcia

**That was horrible waiting time. But this chapter was long and hard to write. Maybe because it hits close to home, I'm not sure. I just have a no****te to give before:**

**1) In this chapter a disability called autism is mentioned. Some autistic kids can talk, some can't. Some are quite independant, some aren't. Some can read and write, and others aren't there yet. Don't generalise autism from the character in this story. The ribbon to represent autism awareness is puzzle pieces that are red, yellow, blue and green. There's a reason for that: autism is a puzzle.**

**2) This month is Autism awareness month.**

**Dedication: To all the Jenas, all the Stephs; all the Moms, Dads, Marthas and Kats.**

**Disclaimer: I no own Rick Riordan**

* * *

><p><span>Stephanie Garcia <span>

_2006_

She swung her backpack off her shoulder and pulled open the door to peek inside. Jena was kneeling in the middle of her room, and she was putting down pennies on the carpet floor, and then sorting them into groups.

"Hi Jena," Steph said. Jena didn't answer, but it wasn't like Steph had expected her to. Sometimes in a daydream or dream, Jena would say hi and tell her all about school and friends from school and ask about her own day.

But she'd given up on that a long time ago, and she'd left it to wish chips, shooting stars, and birthday candles.

"Did you have a good day?"

The city wore the stars down with the streetlights; her birthday was eight months away; and her mom never bought chips. Steph had nothing to wish on.

Jena didn't answer.

"I had a good day. Mostly. Except there weren't any free spots in the library, so I had to go outside at lunch, and it was lonely," she said. For a second she just watched Jena drag her pennies into new groups with her fingertips. "I think I might even know how lonely you are. But you don't feel lonely, do you Jena? You just lock us out."

Jena tilted her head and looked at the new groups of pennies. She'd put all the shiny ones together, the dim ones together, and the ones with pocket gunk or gravel stuck on them together in another pile.

"You have a lot of nice pennies," Stephanie said again. Jena didn't even look up and Steph had had enough for the day. She got up and left, easing Jena's door shut behind her.

Seven years old, which was 2520 days, and zero words in the case of Jena Garcia.

Stephanie took a deep breath. She'd finished all her homework at school during lunch, she'd done her chores, it wasn't her turn to make supper and no way would she cut Katarina some slack (especially after today), and she'd finished her book.

Great. Nothing to do.

It was a perfectly fine spring day, the kind of day where you brought a coat in the morning, but by lunch you tied it around your waist, carried it, or threw it at the wall and left it there to melt like the snow.

From outside, she heard people biking, and running, and screaming in some make-belief game. For a second she wished she were seven and she could just be friends with everyone and hop into a game of make-believe or Disney role-play and be a new person.

Jena was seven. Jena should be biking and running and screaming. But then again if Jena would be out there, so would Steph. Because then Jena wouldn't be autistic, the whole Garcia family wouldn't have had to move for Jena to get special education in a big city, Stephanie would still have her own friends, and the kids at her school wouldn't consider her a public hazard because on that very first day of school, Jena had started wailing when Mom had signed Steph in at the administration. No words: but wails. _That_ Jena could do; just because a secretary had wanted to be nice and had patted her shoulder.

Rule number one: You did not touch Jena Garcia.

God, Steph had known the year would be long from that very day, and it had. Nobody wanted to hear a thing about why the new girl's freak sister had been wailing even if she was too old to be having fits in public like that. Nobody wanted to hear about autism, or how hard it was for Steph in the first place, even if they wouldn't be teasing and whispering and exchanging theories in the hallway. Everything from shaken baby syndrome to abuse had gone around the school, and a teacher had actually heard the later rumour and cornered Stephanie with the help of a social worker.

That was the most embarrassing day of her life; when Mr Granger and Shirley had pulled her out of class for questions. She'd been sat down and told "Now Stephanie, you know you can tell us anything, right?" Steph could only _think _about the kind of ideas that'd formed in the student body.

And thirteen year olds, being as mean and ruthless as they were, wouldn't let Steph forget about that. It was the card they always played against her; time and time again. And for some reason Stephanie refused to play the only answer she had. _My sister's autistic. It's not my fault that she's low on the spectrum. It's not my fault she doesn't talk or touch or look at you._ Something kept her from blowing it up in those shallow people's ratty faces.

Stephanie sighed and the front door opened downstairs.

"I'm home!" Katarina yelled. Steph frowned, walked out of Jena's room and yelled down the stairs.

"You were supposed to be home an hour ago! Tonight was your night to babysit, I had the yearbook committee."

That was her pathetic attempt to try and fit in at the new school. So far it'd flunked because Steph couldn't talk about hair or brand name clothes or parties or shoes with other people. Her conversations had always revolved around books, inside jokes and old stories.

"Well what are you doing here?" Katarina asked.

"I called home, and you weren't there. I knew you wouldn't come back in time for the babysitter to leave, and Jena would have been alone." Steph asked, coming down the stairs.

She stood face to face with Katarina, who had strands of hair dyed purple, blue and red, and had eyes the colour of hard caramels.

"I would've been back on time." Katarina said.

"You _just _stumbled in now!" Steph said. "You know, I'm not the only one who has to babysit Jena."

"I know," Katarina said impatiently.

"Then help me out!" Steph said.

"Well stop being a baby, it's one night only." Kat said walking towards the kitchen.

Stephanie let out a groan to show her sister that she wasn't impressed, and followed her to the kitchen.

"She's in her room if you want to say hi."

"She won't say anything back, what's the point?" Katarina said, taking a can of Diet Coke from the fridge.

"She'll say something eventually!" Stephanie yelled out, finally not being able to take any more rain on the day.

"Well I'll say hi when she does," Katarina said.

Stephanie boiled inside. That'd been something she'd been told at lunch. She'd been reading as she walked, so she'd run into a girl. It was one of the popular girls, and she dropped her lunchbox and turned around at her, completely ticked off.

_"I'm sorry-" Steph mumbled._

_"Yeah, I got that." The girl had snapped. Steph just walked away quickly as the girl bent down to pick up her lunchbox. Steph had been following the wall and she was nearly at a deserted table when the girl yelled, "Think your sister'll say sorry when her brain's gonna start working right?" _

"She's not going to say something if nobody gives her the chance to talk that's what Martha" –the woman who worked with Jena- "said."

"Well we gave her a chance that's why we moved to freaking Atlanta." Kat said. "Leave me alone twerp."

"You are the worst sister _ever!" _Stephanie yelled, before stomping up to her room, making enough noise for Katarina to know she was making noise, but not enough to send Jena into a panic.

"Hi to you too!" Katarina yelled after her. But even_ she _wouldn't yell loud enough to send Jena into a panic. Mostly because she doubted more and more of anybody's capacity coax her out of it every day. Kat was a cynic when it came to Jena, but even Steph's optimism was starting to die down. Only mom could do anything. When Steph or Kat or Dad told Jena that it was alright and that she had to calm down, it was like they weren't speaking the same language.

Slamming the door would've felt really right, but Steph didn't because –once again- it would send Jena into a panic.

Her room was the only place where Steph really felt at ease in the new house in the new town. The walls were painted light colours, and the bed had a million blankets on it to make it warm and cozy when she read. Shelves and a bedside table were lined with books that Stephanie had read more than once each, with cracked spines, bent page corners and preciously preserved hardcovers.

Pictures hung on the wall space near her bed; her best friends from the small town they were from, Johnston Hills: Nicky and Mina. They were at the school carnival, splayed out in full ta-dah on a stack of hay. God, Steph missed them. They understood Jena. Everybody back home had; a lot of them even thought she was the cutest little girl on earth, which she was in a way. Brown pigtails and brown eyes that would never quite cross yours…

Here she was a freak. In the big city there was too much going on, too many people, too many things- and something odd and delicate and unique like Jena got trampled. Really fast. You'd think that with these bigger schools, bigger staffs, bigger equipment and budgets these people would know about autism and they'd understand it. You'd think…

Then again, the Titanic was built big and luxurious and dubbed 'The Unsinkable ship'. And that one sunk.

Steph pulled a book from under her pillow and lost herself in the pages. There was always a jerk in a book, but the one she was reading about right now, Draco Malfoy, wasn't real. He wasn't talking to Steph, he didn't hate her, or Jena.

She liked that.

* * *

><p>Her alarm woke her up. If it hadn't been a present from now dead Grandma, Steph would've punched through it long ago.<p>

Her brain started working as she got dressed before stepping out of her room. Jenna was sitting in the middle of the upstairs hall, also dressed. She was playing with coins again, except counting silver nickels.

"Hi Jena," Steph said. "How are you?"

No answer, so Steph just sat down next to Jena. Jena looked up; making sure that Steph wouldn't touch her, and went back to her pennies quick enough.

"Want to count them?" Steph asked. "You've got three quarters, four nickels, and ten pennies. Hey… That's a dollar." She babbled. She looked at Jena who kept pulling her pennies into piles. Steph watched the other piles. Six dimes, one quarter, three nickels. Four quarters. Ten dimes. Twenty nickels…

"Jena, you know money." Steph said, her face breaking into a huge grin. "You understand it… You…"

Steph would've hugged her if hugging would've meant something more than panic to Jena.

She got back up, and pushed the door of her parents' room opened. Her dad was reading in bed, and Mom was applying makeup.

"Mom- guess what Jena did!" Steph said.

"What sweetheart?" Mom asked sounding exasperated already. She hadn't even had to deal with the people at work yet.

"She's sorting through coins, but her piles make sense!" Steph said. "She _is _paying attention in class- or at least in math. Her piles are all equal to one dollar, they're not just random!"

Dad looked up from his book. "You're serious, Stephanie?"

"I wouldn't lie." Steph said, grinning up to her ears. "Come on!"

She dragged Dad out of the bedroom.

"Hey Jenny, how goes it?" Dad asked, kneeling behind her. Jena scooted over to avoid the possible touch and Dad took inventory of the piles.

"You're right. Jena, where'd you learn that?"

* * *

><p>Steph got to the bus stop. There were five of them at the bus stop, and the four others had all known each other since they'd gone to the neighbourhood's local elementary school. Steph was the stranger who didn't get let into the conversation.<p>

The bus covered for the middle school and the high school which were right across the street from one another. Right now the vehicle was empty because of how early in the route it was. A guy was lying across the two back rows of benches, a girl was eating a muffin and holding her skateboard with her free hand, most people were plugged into their iPods and isolated into their own worlds of bubble-gum pop music or meaningless rap, or in games of memory, speed and tapping on screens.

Steph sat down alone and soaked in the silence. It got lighter and lighter as more people came in (especially a group of loud eight graders) and the sun became more visible. Steph leaned her head against the window, thinking of Jena's counting. But the cold fall air made her cheek cold, so she straightened her head.

What would the counting mean in the world of special ed?

* * *

><p>Steph walked by the English classroom and froze in her steps. She looked at the bulletin board.<p>

**Cinderella **

**A play like none other at Prospering Students Middle School!**

**Auditions on Friday May 6th, find a short monologue to memorise**

**Practises will be Monday and Thursday after school**

**15 parts onstage, 20 backstage**

**Grab a signup sheet from the folder below, sign your name on audition list, and see you then**

**Talk to Mr. Adams for more info!**

* * *

><p>Supper time went from disaster to small earthquake at the Garcìa house. The parents would talk a bit about their jobs, but that was pretty much it. Most of the time would be spent cutting Jena's food in the right amount of pieces for her to accept on her plate, or finding something she'd eat that night. The night after she insisted on eating pasta she might only accept green beans. And she never ate any meat or anything whole wheat, nothing with sauce, nothing too salty, no vegetable that was too bright of a colour, no fruits, and things that crunched when she ate (like carrots or unsalted crackers or pickles) were a big no-no.<p>

That night Mom had just settled Jena down with a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerio, which were soggy enough with milk so that they didn't crunch.

Before a conversation could start Kat got up and said that she was done and she had to go call Jean-Luc, her oh-so-amazing foreign exchange student boyfriend. Steph was _so _sure that the guy had a girlfriend in France.

Dad's phone rang as he put the last of the Teriyaki in his mouth, and he pushed his chair and went downstairs to take the call, probably from one of his real estate clients.

Mom sighed and took a spoonful of supper. Steph gave her a few seconds of quiet before she started to talk.

"Hey mom, there's this…"

That's when Jena spat up Hawaiian punch.

See, if Jena had too much food in her mouth, if it stayed in there too long, if she was tired of sitting down and eating, or if she just didn't like it, she spat it out, hence the bib.

"Jena, darling…" Mom sighed, getting up and grabbing the towel handy on the table corner at every meal. It was hard to clean up Jena, because she refused to be touched and all. So Mom removed the bib and a second after Jena walked off as Mom got to the punch on the table.

"I'll take care of it Mom, you can go get Jena." Steph said.

"Oh, what's the use, nobody's eating anyways." Mom said, dropping the towel and walking upstairs, her hand on her forehead like whenever she was getting migraines.

_I'm eating supper, _Steph thought, watching her Mom leave.

* * *

><p>When Steph got home she knew something was wrong. She heard Katarina crying. Her sister was in the living room with a blanket covering her, like when she was really, really upset.<p>

"Kat?" Steph asked. "Katarina, what's wrong?"

She swung her bag off her shoulder and knelt in front of her sister. She poked the lump of flesh and blanket in the arm and the blanket slipped back, making a hood for her sister's tear-streaked face.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, go away Steph," Kat said, burying herself again.

"No, Kat, really…"

"Leave me alone."

Steph bit the insides of her cheeks.

"Fine, ignore me, whatever. If you want to sit on the floor and cry-"

A hand came out and slapped her, just as Kat's face popped up.

"Shut up Steph you weren't home twenty minutes ago and you didn't see what she did and you didn't have to..!"

"Screw you Kat!" Steph interrupted, pushing herself up and marching off, grabbing her bag on her way out. Screw Kat.

_Screw Kat completely and utterly_, she thought, touching her cheek. What was that for? If she was going to get freaking bitch slapped, could she get an explanation or a context, maybe?

She went up to stairs, ignoring Kat's crying. If Kat was going to cry, then she'd cry alone now.

When she got to the top of the stairs she froze because Jena's door was closed, and it was never closed- not even when Jena was changing, which was one of the things about autism that mom called 'a behaviour'. There were good behaviours and bad behaviours, and with kids like Jena, you had to limit them out.

More of Jena's 'bad behaviours' were screaming when she was touched, never looking at you in the day, making her piles, spitting food out, shaking her hands, looking at nowhere for a long time.

Steph tried to open the door but it was locked. Kat had locked Jena in? That only happened when everyone was too busy to keep an eye on her. It sounded mean, but keeping Jena in her room kept her out of the parents' way, out of Steph's legs and out of Kat's breathing room when they all needed it, and it was a way for them to know that she was okay. But there were rules to that. No random locking Jena in for no reason.

She bit the inside of her cheeks and found the butter knife they kept in the bathroom and used the tip to unlock the door. Jena turned when the hinges activated.

"Hi Jena," Steph said. "You can come out now, I'm home."

Jena turned back to whatever she was doing on her bed. Steph walked up and saw her putting coins in jam jars. Maybe each jar was worth two dollars, because Jena would spill the coins out and put them back in, sometimes after removing or adding one or two, but Steph was too tired to figure it out right then.

So she went in her room, closed her own door, plopped on her bed and cracked the spine of a book.

See, books didn't bite you. Books didn't stab you in the back unless they led you on to the idea of a pretty conclusion and then turned the story into a tragedy, and that was exciting. Books didn't hurt you, unless your teacher made you put the book away and pay attention to algebra as the action piled up and your hero hanged off a cliff, or your goddanged favourite character died. But books didn't slap you without explanation, books didn't act like you didn't exist, books didn't stay when you moved far away… Books were much more humane than humans were.

She got through a good half of the book when there was a knock on her door and Mom called for supper.

This time, Jena's food had already been sorted out. Kat kept shooting dirty looks at Jena, who was eating vanilla yogurt and cucumber slices with a big glass of milk as the rest of them dug into buy-and-bake lasagne.

"So, how did everybody's days go?" Mom asked. Kat dropped her fork and used a bad word to describe her day. She swung her legs off her chair, pushed it back, and went upstairs before anybody could ask. Mom shot Steph a confused look.

"She was mad at Jena when she came in." She explained.

"I'll go talk to her," Mom said, getting up in turn.

It was a few seconds of silence until Dad asked for the garlic bread, and another moment until he asked her how her day had been.

"Okay," she said. "Listen Dad, there's this play at school-"

"A play?" Dad asked looking up from his plate.

"Yes, it's Cinderella. And I need you to sign a paper for me to try out."

"Alright, plays are always fun. Where is this paper?"

"In my agenda, I'll show it to you after supper." Steph promised thinking _yes! _to herself.

Only after supper and dishes did Mom and Kat come back down, and did Steph give Dad the signup sheet. He asked what it was for.

"I told you at supper. Cinderella, the play my school's having?"

"Oh that's right," Dad said taking a pen from his chest pocket and scribbling his signature on the blank line. "Plays are always fun. Fill in the rest, okay baby girl?" He asked.

"Yeah Dad," she said. "Thanks."

* * *

><p>Steph walked onstage and shook like a leaf. The other girls auditioning before she had all been confident and suave and nearly professional about what they had to do and how they had to say it and they were <em>really <em>good. Back in Johnston Hills, the school was so small you just had to try out for something and you'd get the part. And if not, spoofs and dares were made about auditioning and trying out for sports. People did it for fun, thinking 'why not?'. Nothing like here where things were taken dead-seriously all the time.

She looked over at the audience, but the lights blinded her so much that she didn't see anything.

"Anytime Garcia," Mr Adams said. He didn't believe in last names. He called people 'Alexander', 'Bianca', 'Marianne', 'Lucas', 'Julian' or whatever. But she was always Garcia, and Steph had no idea what.

And so the lines of Dorothy from a _Wizard of Oz _play she'd found being used as a bookmark in a garage-sale-bought paperback poured from her mouth. They were like a flood; the sound of her voice and syllables of her words filled the auditorium more than she'd expected them to.

When she finished the people she couldn't see clapped.

"Good job Garcia, now if you'd sit down with us. Next up, Chantale," Mr Adams called. People cheered and a girl dressed in a black blouse and boot cut jeans came onstage, with chains around her neck. Steph's hand went up to her brown waves pulled into pigtails and her eyes looked down at her gym t-shirt she'd been too lazy to change out of since they'd only watched a movie on vegetables, and well-worn jeans. She looked so childish and unprepared compared to this girl. Chantale was the popular girl who always filled in the lead roles in her school plays, Steph could tell. Every book had a girl like that.

She did a scene from Footloose, dancing and singing at the end which caused more cheering from her fan club in the amphitheatre seats. When she was finished she curtsied, smiling.

"Thank you Chantale. Brandon, next."

* * *

><p>The next day Steph expected nothing good from the bulletin board, but she wanted to know if she'd be playing palace guard 1, 2 or 3.<p>

She went from the bottom and read up, looking for her name.

**Two Mice- Connor Vincent and Tanner Dalton**

**Horses (4 guys, 2 horses)- Henry Ogg, Hans Sterling, Harry Bilomba, Howy Wright**

**Invitation Sender- Julian Aberforth**

**Narrator- Ella Mackenzie **

**Palace Guard 1- Timothy Elverson**

** 2- Kyle Smith**

** 3- Hamilton Gordon**

**King- Carter O'Leary**

**Duke- Nicholas Archambault**

**Fairy Godmother- Santina Frey **

She was starting to think that her name had been dropped off the list and she'd been assigned a role like stage hand or techie even if she'd put her name as 'actor/actrice' on the audition sheet. Then she got to the top five.

**Anastasia- Hayley Wilson**

**Drusella- Beatrice Powell **

**Stepmother- Chantale Robinson**

**Prince Charming- Brandon Shay**

**Cinderella- Garcia**

Her heart skipped a beat and her jaw dropped, but her lips pulled it back up when she smiled.

Cinderella. _She'd _gotten the role of Cinderella! She smiled bright and turned back to everyone else.

But there was nobody to smile with.

* * *

><p>When she got back home that day she heard the screaming from outside the front door. Steph sighed, closed her eyes and considered running back to school and burrowing herself in a corner of the library.<p>

_No, no- go on. _She urged herself. She opened the door and stepped inside. Kat was lying on the couch with her earphones on and her iPod at full blast. There came a new scream and Steph cringed and threw her hands to her ears.

She wandered up to Kat and hit her sister on the leg until the later looked up.

"What?" She asked, pulling off her earphones. There was a new scream.

"What's that about, what did you do to her?" Steph asked.

"Relax, Mom's with her." Kat said.

"Well what's the problem?"

Kat swung up and looked at Steph with frustrated eyes, lined with so much eyeliner it could be kohl like the Ancient Egyptian queens.

"_Her _problem is that the reason she wasn't awake up and early like you were was because she has chicken pox. So she had a doctor's appointment."

"Oh."

"Yes, and as now all of Atalanta knows Jena does not like doctor's appointment because the doctor actually needs to touch her." Kat said. "So she's been wailing since and when she stopped, Mom tried to apply the cream to stop her from scratching at herself and-"

Jena screamed.

"-Here we are again." Kat said. And so Kat sunk the earphones back in her ears and squashed back on the couch.

Steph took a deep breath, swung her bag off her shoulder and went up the stairs to her room. Mom was in the bathroom, leaning over the sink with her eyes closed.

"Hi mom," Steph said brightly, trying to make the mood better. Jena screamed again and Mom sighed.

"Sweetheart now is not the time."

This pretty much summed up that she hadn't been listening to what Kat had said, so Steph went to her room and curled up with a book called '1994'. It was a defining book in science fiction, Steph loved it. She kept thinking that if there was going to be a future like there was in those books, maybe there'd be some kind of gun to zap kids like Jena with so they'd talk and allow people to touch them and all that.

* * *

><p>"Okay, take it from your last line for us, Garcia." Mr Adams called from the middle of the amphitheatre seats.<p>

It'd been two weeks of practise for the show, and so far, Steph was loving every single second of it. Although, unlike the book plot she'd imagined, she hadn't made instant connections with people who were now her friends. She'd talked to a few but it seemed like everyone had signed up in clusters of friends already, and the links were knots too tight to be undone or changed for another person to join in.

"Coming mother!" Steph called. It was weird yelling these words, because it wasn't Steph's usual dialect or vocabulary. For example; Cinderella respected her stepmother for the job and life and because she was such a Mary-Sue perfect character whereas Steph respected her mother because she wanted to cut her parents a break.

But at the same time, it was a bit refreshing to pretend to do things out of your own free will and not because there was Jena (_still _with chicken pox since they couldn't put cream on her and she kept scratching) who was a handful.

"Cinderella!" One sister yelled from backstage.

"Cinderella!" Another yelled.

"CINDERELLA!" The three yelled at once.

"Garcia, on this cue you're going to have a basket of laundry, and I want you to drop it. But make it dramatic, like, you're overwhelmed. As if each time they called for you to come do something I was sticking a sumo wrestler's weight on you." Mr Adams said.

_Easy, _Steph though.

"Action!"

Steph mimicked dropping a laundry basket, and she fell on her butt herself.

"Good, good, make it cartoony!" Mr Adams called.

The stepmother came in disdainfully- Chantale, the girl who'd been seen as the one who'd get the part for sure.

"Cinderella- look at this mess! You'll simply have to clean it up before dusting the library."

"But I've already dusted the library, mother."

"No, no, no- not that library."

"But mother, we only have _one _library."

"I meant my library you insolent girl! And do wash those cinders off your face before coming anywhere near my room!" Chantale pretended to hike up her skirts before walking out, swaying her hips.

"Okay Cinderella- I want you to kneel and pick up your laundry. There's going to be some sad music, so look pitiful. Pitiful I said. More than that, more… more… Okay, perfect! And after a few seconds I want you to look up and say your line over the music."

And so Steph did, and Mr Adams sang in the bleachers to mimic the music, which made everyone backstage and in the seats laugh.

"It's not my fault I have cinders on my cheek. I'm not a dirty and foul girl, I was taught better. But I have to sleep near the fireplace to keep warm at night, to keep the tips of my toes and the ends of my fingers from falling off. The ashes and cinders blow on my face and the smoke goes down my throat and into my lungs. That's even why they call me 'Cinderella'.

But one day, things will get better. I don't know how and I don't know when, but something big will happen. It'll be like… Like a shooting star, straight across the sky, making everything light up in the night. Something big will come through my life and it'll be better. So, so much better…"

"Perfect Garcia, I love it. Blackout, stage hands grab the laundry, everybody gets off stage, and I want the King and the Prince on in five, four, three…"

Steph rushed offstage and sat down backstage, on a grey plastic chair. She loved being backstage. People milled around and moved and whispered and laughed and freaked out over nothing and everything, or the new high score of their iPod game. Even if Steph wasn't part of it, it was cool to watch people whisper conversations and play flirt and interact.

* * *

><p>Around the dinner table, Steph couldn't take it. Fourteen family suppers in a row and either somebody had left five minutes into the meal or the discussion had gone about the newest call home Kat had earned herself, or everything focused to Jena's spitting or Dad's new job and cruddy boss.<p>

Finally she had to interrupt Mom who was telling Kat that if she couldn't keep her comments to herself in biology there would be big changes at home.

"I got in the play at school." Steph blurted. Everyone turned and looked at her.

"That's great honey!" Mom said.

"Well done," Dad said. "What play?"

_You signed my signup slip, Dad… _"Cinderella. I'm Cinderella."

"Wow, very nice!" Mom said. She raised her glass. "To our very own Cinderella!"

Kat and Dad did the same and for the next ten minutes Steph was bombarded with questions on rehearsals, who else was in it, any of your friends there too, what teacher's in charge, when are you performing, et cetera, et cetera.

Then Jena spat out her potatoes and Kat stomped off angrily and her parents had to take care of that.

* * *

><p>"Dad?" Steph asked. When she'd walked out of the school post theatre practise, her dad had been waiting for her. He'd honked when he'd seen her and Steph had climbed into shotgun.<p>

"Yes Cinderella?" He'd taken to calling her by Disney princess names.

"Have they gotten Jena to count stuff other than pennies yet?" She asked. Dad kept his eyes on the road.

"The thing about Jena is that we know that she understands now, but we don't know how to make it work in our favour and put things to practise. Whenever she does something it's on her own choice. She's a free spirit some may say."

"I don't think she's free. I wouldn't feel free if I couldn't talk and use that freedom."

"Well, I said _some may say. _Besides, Jena sees things differently than you do, Belle."

"I read somewhere that people with autism really like numbers."

"It seems to be the case with Jena at least."

"Think she'll be a mathematician or something? Or she'll teach math at a university." It was odd to think that Jena would ever do any of these things. That she'd ever set her alarm for a certain time, shower without being told, get dressed professionally, take a bus, exchange money with a vendor for a coffee, and teach and interact with a roomful of people. But if Steph kept thinking that Jena would just sit there and do nothing for the average 80 year life expectancy, it got pretty depressing.

"I don't know what Jena's going to be." Dad said. "I just know that there's a place in the world for everybody and if you don't have yours, you need to relocate."

"Is that why we moved from Johnston Hills?" Steph asked. _Because I think that Jena fit in better there. Kat and I definitely did. _

They pulled into the driveway and Steph hopped out of the car, holding her script in one hand.

"Help me get groceries will you?" Dad asked her. Steph moved to the trunk of the minivan and opened it. She took a bag with each hand and walked over to the house and knocked on it with her foot for someone to open. Kat did, and wandered back into the world of iPod before Steph could ask for a hand or say hello. She dropped the bags and put her script down on the ground to go get more bags from the car.

Steph had transferred the last of the bags from the door to the kitchen and into the pantry and fridge when she went back at the door to gather her script but she couldn't find it.

"Kat," she asked turning into the living room to look. Kat didn't do anything.

"Kat," Steph repeated. "Kat. Kat. KAT!"

Frustrated, Kat pulled her earphones out of her ears. "God Steph, what do you want?"

"Have you seen my script?"

"Nope," Kat said, plugging herself back in. Thinking that maybe Mom or Dad had brought it upstairs for her, she climbed the stairs to go check. She looked in the bathroom and saw Mom leaning over the sink with another one of her headaches- she'd been having them all the time since Jena had gotten chicken pox. _Okay, so, not Mom… _

She went to go say hi to Jena who still had a few spots on herself, and then she realised what her sister was holding in her fist. Long strands of paper, sheets ripped from top to bottom. And she was putting them in piles, a mountain of coins right next to her, unused and ignored.

"Jena!" Steph cried. She ran into Jena's room and tore the scraps from Jena's hands and gathered the piles and the mound of surviving scraps of paper on the floor.

Jena looked up and screamed at the top of her lungs, blocking her own ears with her hands, and Steph cringed and covered her ears too.

"Stop it Jena, those are mine, you weren't allowed to-" She was cut by another shout.

"Jena, your coins were right there, couldn't you use that in-" Jena screamed again and Mom rushed in.

"Steph what happened..?"

"She was ripping my script!" Steph explained. Jena screamed again, blocking her ears with her hands.

"Stephanie you are twelve years old, you know that there are certain ways to act with your sister!" Mom sighed.

"Mom, she took my-"

"GO, Stephanie," Mom said sharply, which make Jena scream. "Jena isn't Kat."

"I know Jena isn't freaking Kat believe _me _because Kat just ignores me and Jena has a reason!_" _Steph screamed. Jena screamed, Mom screamed at Steph to get out while she worked on Jena. Figuring that she had nothing to lose, Steph slammed the door of her own room and buried herself under all the blankets and pillows.

* * *

><p>As the show got closer, more costumes and accessories came into play. It was like Christmas morning when Mr Adams came in with slipcovers and everyone gathered to see their costumes. He said that he'd talked to the High School that the kids from this school usually went to, a bunch of theatre companies where he knew guys, and to his nieces to gather everything. He'd also raided the dollar store and The Shepherds of Good Hope apparently.<p>

"Either way, I am very proud of myself."

The animals all had either mouse ears, or professional horse costumes that took two people to fit in it that he'd gotten from a pro theatre troupe.

He had crowns and two fancy white button-down shirts with golden accents for the king and prince, and a sword for the prince to wear at his side. The two stepsisters got pink ruffled dresses with flowers and pearls that had apparently been flower girl dresses that Mr Adams had let his nieces loose on. The stepmother had a strict black dress that Mr Adams tiny fiancé had worn at a funeral and a string of pearls, like a super villain.

"And now for Cinderella's dress…" Mr Adams said. People started a drumroll on their laps, and Steph joined him. People liked the idea of Cinderella, but not of Steph herself.

He pulled the zipper down and Steph's eyes popped out.

"You guys like?" Mr Adams asked, grinning at their silences. "My eldest niece wore this to prom. Garcia, she's about your size, but she said that she was ready to cut and sew it if needed. My nieces rock."

The dress was light blue gauze with what looked like a tiny see-through cardigan on the shoulders.

"I'll also find you a crown somewhere," he said. "Garcia, talk to me, do you like this?"

Finally she got back to her sense and nodded.

"Perfect," he said. "So I want everyone to go try their costumes on."

In the dressing-room, Steph stepped into the dress and pulled the sleeves over her shoulders. She looked at herself in the mirror and gawked. She really _did _look like a princess. She reached up at the pin holding up her hair and let it down her shoulders, fluffing it out so it lost the bump that keeping it up for the whole day created.

She didn't look like Stephanie Garcia anymore; she looked like an actual princess, a real Cinderella. She tried for a twirl and a smile. She pretended to bow like she did in the bow scene, upon meeting the prince.

She was Cinderella. Things weren't going great right now, but one day everything would be grand. Things would change, she'd find a way to get the kids at school, Mom and Dad and Kat and, yes, even Jena, to sit down and listen to her and understand her and not be too busy in their own worlds for her. To make them listen, to give her some room in the world so she could come through. She'd found her way to make that happen. She'd act it out onstage. She'd show how someone could go from zero to hero, to ugly duckling to swan and she'd do it herself. She'd show the world and tell them, with theatre, that they couldn't stay in their own worlds and isolate her. She'd give them something to include her in their world for.

There was a knock on the door.

"Steph?" Someone asked. "It's Bea. Well, Beatrice. Do you need help with the zipper on your dress?"

Steph realised that the sleeves were falling over her shoulders.

"Yes," she said. "Yes please, hold on a second."

She opened the door just enough for Beatrice to squeeze in. She looked like she'd ran into a wedding cake; flowers and rhinestones and strings of pearls and lace were everywhere on her baby pink figure.

"Oh my God Steph, you look amazing," she said, closing the door.

"Thanks. You do too. _Sister," _Steph said, fake-bowing. Bea laughed and zipped Steph up.

"There you go," she said. "You're the last one dressed, come on. Adams is waiting."

Steph smiled in the mirror one last time. She was really Cinderella, she was really in a play, and she was really doing something impressive. So impressive, maybe it would take up more place at the dinner table than skipped classes and spitting.

* * *

><p>"Kat, this is unacceptable! You are sixteen years old; this Peter Pan Syndrome has gone on for far too long! Pull your act together!"<p>

"Mom get off my back, it's like you never leave me alone!"

Steph burrowed her head under her pillow but she still heard the fight loud and crystal clear.

"I would get off your back if I could be sure that when I did, you wouldn't go off car surfing in the country!"

"I just came home drunk _once, _Mom, I wasn't even driving, I swear!" Kat said.

"It doesn't matter, Katarina! Do you remember what you did last night? Who you were with? You _know _how bad drinking is, it can be a real problem!"

"_One time." _

"You're supposed to show the example to your sisters, Katarina, you're the eldest." Dad's voice put in. "Is this what you want us to discuss with your two sisters when they're your age?"

"Screw them! It's not like Steph would ever come out from under her rock and do something like that, and Jena's not ever going to say a word."

"THAT'S IT!" Mom yelled. "That is it, Katarina Estelle Garcia! Go to your room _now. _You're grounded for two months, no driving, no phone privileges until you get your grades up and start behaving like a decent and responsible girl of your age!"

"Mom, screw that!" She complained.

"No Katarina, your mother is right. To your room."

She heard a cry of frustration and then Kat stomped off. Not wanting to be on the same floor as a raging Kat, Steph rushed out of her room and was planning on running down the steps and then down to the basement. On her way down she bumped into Kat.

"Move you waste of space," Kat growled, so mad nothing coming from her mouth could be counted as truth.

Steph flattened herself against the stair's railing and then hopped down the stairs. She nearly missed a stair when Kat slammed her door so loudly. Steph's heart pumped.

_ It's not like Steph would ever come out from under her rock, _Kat had said.

_Her _rock? Steph was the one living under a rock? Bull! Complete and utter bull! Steph wasn't the one who played on her iPod or always went to answer the phone or clicked with three people and that was it. It wasn't her fault she couldn't connect with people. She tried. She tried _so hard. _People just didn't care about the new girl with the freak sister who'd stolen the lead role in the show and…

Steph nearly regretted coming down the stairs because she didn't have a pillow to punch.

* * *

><p>"I need a ride," Steph said.<p>

"Where?" Her dad asked. Steph froze in fear for a second.

"Show. Tonight. Opening night for Cinderella. I've got to be there an hour early. You promised that you and Mom would be there. That you'd get good seats right in the center and you'd beat all the other parents and be there are 7:30 sharp."

"Oh, right." Dad said. "Sorry Steph, it's been a long day."

_You mean Jena had to go to the dentist and not only does she never open her mouth, but she hates pointy things and physical contact so you and Mom had to hold her down while she screamed, and it was embarrassing because everyone was wondering who the frig was screaming and why. _

He grabbed his car keys and headed out the door, Steph following, her heart beating fast with nervousness even if she wasn't even backstage yet.

"You know what; I think that we're all going to come watch you, Ariel." Dad said as he readjusted the mirror.

"_What?" _Steph said.

"Well, it's been a while since we've done something as a family-" Forever to be exact, "-And Kat hasn't been out of the house much, so it'll do everyone some good."

"And Jena?" Steph asked.

"Oh, Jena'll be fine."

Steph bit her lip. She really wanted Jena to be an average kid. She wanted Jena to go biking, and running, and screaming in make-believe games like other seven year old kids. And she always wanted to treat Jena as normally as humanely possible, like asking her how her day had been, and telling Mom to wrap Jena's birthday presents even if she'd just play with the wrapping paper and cut it into long lengths and making those damned piles of hers. But right now, Steph really wanted it to be _her _moment. This was what she'd been able to bring up during dinner conversation. This was _her _big thing, _her _accomplishment. Did she want Jena to get up, cross the amphitheatre stage and walk out of the room in the middle of it? No, because then she'd lose the one way she had of making people listen to her, and those kids in school would have more to fund the 'Stephanie Garcia's sister is a freak' platform with.

But she didn't say anything because that was selfish. Jena was as much of her sister as Kat was, and as much of a family as Mom and Dad were. If tonight was for families to come watch the show, then Jena should be there too. But… Maybe she wanted to be a little selfish…

And when she saw the school where she'd perform in she was overtaken by the urge to think of herself and be selfish for that one night.

"Dad, I don't think it's a good idea." Steph said.

"Why's that, sweetheart?"

"Just that- Jena…"

"Jena's had a good day at the Special Education school, Martha was thrilled with her. Don't worry."

"And at the dentist's?"

"That was just at the dentist's."

"Dad…" Steph said nervously.

"Hey, it's 6:30, you should go." Dad said. Steph wanted to push more, but he was right and Chantale Robinson was walking in and she was always 'fashionably late', so Steph accepted the 'break a leg' her father offered, kissed him on the cheek, and left.

* * *

><p>Steph's stomach shook with every second that Mr Adams pep-talked everyone and barked orders so that the stage hands would hear him from the other side of the curtains, and that the lights and soundtracks came on and off to test all the tech stuff. Not just because of the fact that this was their first performance, and the other ones would follow during the rest of the week for the school's classes, and some elementary school kids.<p>

But also because she was pretty sure that Dad was determined that Jena would be okay to sit down and watch a show for an hour, and Steph totally wasn't.

* * *

><p>Her first costume was rags. Then, during the scene with the prince, she went up and put on a cami and shorts under them. During the scene with the fairy godmother, there was a blackout during which Steph pulled off her rags and two people came and slipped the blue dress over her head and zipped it up. Steph was always painstakingly nervous for that scene. What if the zipper jammed, or if she'd forgotten to put a cami, or her arm got stuck in the dark or <em>whatever. <em>

But it went okay, and the stage hand had exited as the lights turned back on, perfectly on cue.

"Oh, Cinderella, you look beautiful!" Fairy godmother said.

"Oh Fairy Godmother!" Steph said. She twirled around herself and felt the fabric and the tiara on her head. "I've never seen a more beautiful gown, much less worn one!"

"Ah, but my dear, you said that there would be a shooting star in your life. And I do believe that you have just found it. But I do believe you are missing something…"

Santina went around Steph looking.

"Hmm, it's not the hair, not the jewels, not the shoes, definitely not the dress… Oh, I know." She flicked her wand and slipped a tiara out of her sleeve, and put it on Steph's head.

"You could be a real princess, Cinderella."

"I certainly feel like it."

"So go, my dear. Don't waste your time talking to an old woman- go before the sun rises and your star disappears! Don't waste this chance, my dear, you have until midnight!"

"Thank you Fairy Godmother," Steph said, the guy who'd crawled out of his mouse costume bringing her to the horses where the 'carriage was'. And off they went!

The scenes went well and Steph had slipped into a trance where she was most completely Cinderella. The lines flowed out of her mouth as naturally as a baby breathes when it's born, she moved accordingly…

When the prince looked around the room, waved his hand in a 'no' gesture at the stepsisters, which made the audience laugh, he came to her and she bowed to him.

"May I have this dance?" Brendan asked, and they danced.

Steph and Brandon had had a lot of fun staying late after theatre practises with Adams who showed them how to dance with a broom partner of his own.

Upon the first twirl things fell apart. She heard someone make noise in the crowd and without even looking up, she knew it was Jena. She just knew it.

She pretended she didn't hear noise and just kept dancing.

"Your beauty is comparable to Helen's, and your eyes shine like the most precious stones in this castle. Your movements are graceful."

She heard the noise get louder. She couldn't see the crowd very well since the lights were blinding, but she did see people turning back to where she'd spotted Kat and Mom and Dad and Jena sit down.

"Your Highness is being awfully flattering to me. I would think it to be courting if I didn't know better." Steph said as Brandon steered the waltz to the other end of the room.

She heard screaming. Downright, full-lungs _screaming _and the 'ball guests' who were supposed to keep their eyes on the dancing couple turned towards the audience. Steph felt her skin warm up; every square inch of it. She wanted to melt through the floor, and her feet froze so she and Brandon stumbled in the dance. Brandon frowned and mouthed to her 'Your sister'?

Steph bit her lip and didn't say anything. She heard the sound of two people getting up, Jena kept making a fuss, people looked over at them and whispering. Steph was overwhelmed bit by bit by the overall sensation that she was going to burst into tears. No. People weren't supposed to be staring at Jena. Not tonight, not ever. They were always in their own worlds, but they always came out to watch and criticise Jena. Always.

Brandon took her two hands again and put one on his shoulder, and nodded to her as she started to move again, her brain only working by memory. _This is the music that plays while I'm dancing with the prince, when everything starts being okay in my life. This is when I waltz- I need to waltz now- I'm going to waltz. _

"Tell me beautiful," Brandon said loudly so that people would refocus on him. Jena made a big sound, and the doors at the back opened. "Tell me beautiful, what is your name?"

The doors shut and people looked back at Steph who was pushing back the envy to cry.

"My name," she said. "My name, well, I have many names Your Highness."

"Then what is the name that you wish I call you?" He asked her.

"It is… It is…"

The sound effects of a clock ran through the room. Steph froze.

"Oh dear."

"Oh what?"

"Oh dear."

"Oh what?"

"I had a truly wonderful evening Your Highness, I truly, truly did- but I must leave!"

"It is barely midnight, can you not stay for..?"

Steph dropped Brandon's hands.

"I'm so sorry, I will not forget this night." Steph said, before running offstage. She purposefully twisted her foot so her shoe would fly off as she ran across.

"Wait! Wait!" Brendon cried. He pretended to run and the spotlight followed Steph. Stage hands dressed in black so they looked like nothing came, and wrapped the rags around her to cover most of the blue dress. Cinderella ran and ran, her carriage fell apart and the horses ran loose and disappeared backstage.

She plopped down on a bench that'd been placed there for her to plop down into.

"Oh dear," she said. "Oh, it was a wonderful evening. A wonderful evening." _Not. _"Why must all good things come to an end? Why must morning rise while my shooting star wasn't done striking across the sky? Is it all the luck I will have? All the fortune that will be put on me in my maid life?

If so, I will treasure it. I will treasure it, because fortune is fortune, dance is dance and the Prince… Well, he was the prince…"

The public laughed, there was a blackout and Steph disappeared through the curtains the stage hands were opening to retrieve the bench.

Royal music sounded the arrival of another palace scene, one Steph wasn't in.

She ran to a wall and kicked it. Kicked it, kicked it, kicked it. If that wall would've been a ball, she'd have made the Olympics and won the FIFA all by herself.

Words couldn't describe the inner boil. All those feelings of being tossed away, put last as priorities lined up, ignored when she talked, ignored when she gave ideas- they all crashed down on her. It was like all those things were the ingredients of a witch's brew: they'd all been unpleasant on their own but altogether they burnt her throat and stung her eyes and made her feel sick.

"Hey, you," Chantale Robinson snapped at her in a whispered voice. "We don't care that your retard sister messed it up, just get changed for the next fudging scene or you'll make it worse than you already did."

Steph slapped Chantale right across the cheek without thinking about it, hesitating, considering that it wasn't the smartest idea…

"Since you don't listen when I talk, then maybe actions speak louder than words. Don't call my sister a retard." Steph said, her voice low so it wouldn't be heard by the public, but threatening enough so every ounce of her venom was spat out at this girl who had everything and who was listened to and paid attention to and appreciated and agreed with but couldn't understand the people who just couldn't have those things.

Before Chantale or anybody else could say anything, Steph burrowed herself in the dressing room and forced herself not to cry as she changed into the rags fully, and tied her apron around her waist. She only came out when she was sure it was her cue to be out, as to not deal with anybody. The stage hand took her blue dress to go put it at the other side of the backstage area, where it was needed next.

She didn't cry for the rest of the show, she smiled when the shoe fit, ripped off the rags again when Fairy Godmother 'bippedy bopeddy booed' her back into the blue dress, when the last scene showed she and Brandon holding hands and crossing the stage, she was wearing a long veil and the narrator fed the 'happily ever after' bit to the crowd. The second the show was done, or her last appearance in an actual scene was done, she pushed through the emergency exit.

"Stephanie!" Brandon hissed. But she was done paying attention and being obedient and obliging for nothing in return. She crossed the threshold and let the door slam.

She ran across the grass outside the school and curved to the entrance that led to the math sector. She ran through those doors (always unlocked for the kids studying in portables), up a flight of stairs, and she landed herself in Mr Adams' class, where she sat at a table for four in the back.

She pulled her legs on the chair and cried into the blue skity and shook like a leaf. She let the gauze soak up the tears that were coming after –how long was it? Months? Weeks? Days?- of Steph resisting to them.

The one time she wanted to tell the world how she felt, how she wanted to be treated, how she wanted to be- the sound of her voice was muffed.

But she couldn't blame Jena. Try as she might –which she was ashamed to say that she had- Steph couldn't do it. It wasn't Jena's fault. Jena's way of communicating was screaming and making those throat noises. She didn't know any better, it was how she was made. Some sisters were made with brown hair and blue eyes; Jena was made autistic and non-verbal.

But Dad? Dad should've listened to Steph in the car.

Kat? Kat didn't have to lock herself in a bubble of wires and music and rebellion just because things got tough, when Steph needed someone to talk to most.

The kids at school? They didn't have to judge her, _or _her sister.

Mom? Didn't have to always make it about Jena, Jena could live her life a second without being hovered around like a hen and her chicks.

But because they did and because Steph couldn't do anything about it, here she was. Crying into the beautiful dress she'd been sure she'd be able to face the world in.

The class stayed dark with night but about twenty minutes later, someone crept into it without turning on the lights. Steph didn't really look up, she didn't care.

Someone sat down in front of her and she looked up to see Mr Adams' face.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have run out before the bow."

"You didn't run out of the show," he said. "I was impressed enough with that."

Stephanie bit her lip and tried not to cry more.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What about, Garcia?"

"I don't know," Steph said. "I don't know what to be sorry for anymore, it feels like one big blob of be-sorry-for things. I'm sorry my sister probably listened to her iPod the whole time, I'm sorry I didn't get my parents to listen at the kitchen table and they came in late, I'm sorry that I slapped Chantale, I'm sorry that your Cinderella wasn't everyone's favourite star backstage, I'm sorry that I lost my script, I'm sorry that I ran out, I'm sorry that my sister… You know…"

"What's her name?" Mr Adams asked.

"Jena," Stephanie replied. Mr Adams nodded.

"I have a godson with Asperger. You know how I talked about how my nieces helped with the costumes? Well, he's their little brother. His Asperger's not as severe as what your sister has, he can talked and be touched and everything, but it's weird isn't it? Having these quirky habits to explain to people, and they think it's foreign but it's your everyday life…"

Steph nodded. Yes, yes, hell yes.

"And they still don't get it," Steph said. "And sometimes I don't think my older sister gets it. I don't think anybody does, and then they're all so busy trying to figure it out that they put everything else behind…"

"Including you?" Mr Adams asked. Steph nodded.

"Or they don't try to figure it out, or don't want anything to do with the family and they just lock you out." Steph said. "I don't get in trouble and I don't need special education. It's not like there's anything about me that makes it so I need attention. And I don't need attention but I don't want to be locked out of everyone's worlds."

That was the first time she said it out loud, and it sounded lamer than she thought it might've. It made her sound like an attention-seeking brat. But Steph didn't want attention. She wanted contact. The one thing that Jena couldn't have and that Kat denied.

"Do you know why I call you Garcia, but I don't call the other kids by their last names?" He asked.

Steph shook her head.

"Because I think you're like Madonna. You're going to shine so bright, one name will be all you need to make everyone think of you, as well as all the great things you'll do." Mr Adams said. "And I think that whether or not you act in a play, write it down, or say it out loud at all; there's a way for you to be heard out there. And when you find it, big things are going to happen. Big things that can be summed up with the one name; 'Garcia'."

Steph froze, shell shocked at all that. She'd always thought that he'd just considered 'Garcia' better than 'Steph'. Not that… Not that someone heard her through the lines of the scenes she'd played. Not that someone had actually guessed about how much she wanted a Cinderella story. Not that someone actually cared that much.

"I told your parents to head home. I said that I'd drive you. Are you ready to go?"

Garcia wiped the back of her hand against her eyes and cheeks.

"Yes Mr Adams. Thanks."

"No problem."

So he waited at the auditorium door as she put her accessories away and changed back into her jeans and spring coat. It should've felt awkward to be alone with a teacher outside of school or extracurricular activities, but as they walked across the parking lot, it wasn't. It felt more like… Like he was helping her out. Like maybe he was driving the crystal horse-drawn carriage.

* * *

><p>She ignored her family when she got back in. They isolated her, now she'd isolate them for the second that she wanted to be alone and think straight. She locked herself into her room, changed into pyjamas and fell asleep with the light still on.<p>

She dealt with crud in the hallway the next day. People whispered, in a 50/50 blend of her slapping Chantale to Jena's tantrum. If Steph was a good girl she'd have apologised to Chantale about the slap. But she wasn't, and she was still pretty determined that Chantale had deserved it.

Walking home after a day of convincing herself that the buzz would die down, she didn't notice that she was being followed.

When she finally realised that the footsteps echoing hers weren't some illusion, she turned around and saw three girls, none of which went to her school.

"Sorry for following you," one said. "My name's Fiona. Can we talk to you by those picnic tables?"

Garcia was not used to being addressed to much. She was the socially isolated lone wolf, so this caught her by surprise.

"S… Sure…"

"Splendid. We have a preposition to make." Another said.

* * *

><p>Sitting at the picnic tables near the ball park across the street, the girls introduced themselves as Fiona, Thalia and Elissa, and so did she, as 'Garcia'. Apparently Fiona had a niece who'd been in the school play, so she'd been watching.<p>

"You were fabulous," Fiona promised.

But when she'd noticed that Garcia hadn't been out at the bow, she'd gone looking. She'd been the one to tell Mr Adams where to find Garcia.

"Look, I don't know what that was about, but we just wanted to make sure you were okay."

She thought about it for a second. "I don't know. I guess… I'm a little hopeful now."

"Hopeful for what?" Garcia said.

She was shy about explaining, but something about the way the three girls looked at her encouraged Garcia to talk. And so she did. She explained Jena's autism, Kat's attitude, Mom and Dad's million-of-other-things, the lockout at school, how books were her best friend, how she was tired of trying…

"You know," Thalia asked. "There's a kind of group called the Hunters of Artemis. We're with them."

"Wait- Artemis, isn't she..?"

"Goddess of the hunt," Elissa nodded. "That same Artemis."

Garcia didn't believe it, but Thalia and Elissa and Fiona had her soon convinced that maybe –just maybe- it was true, even if her mind was blown half-way to space.

"So… You guys just..?"

"We're like a sisterhood," Thalia said. "Think of it that way. We hunt, live, sleep, eat, talk to each other twenty four/seven. If you join… Well, we call each other sisters for a reason."

"I have sisters." Garcia said.

"I know, and I'm not saying that they have to mean less to you than they do now. But… If you ever need something more, or someone to talk to… Consider the Hunters." Thalia said. "I was sceptical, but trust me, it was worth it."

She thought for a second. _I just know that there's a place in the world for everybody and if you don't have yours, you need to relocate,_dad had said. Maybe this was her relocation._ And I think that whether or not you act in a play, write it down, or say it out loud at all; there's a way for you to be heard out there. And when tou find it, big things are going to happen. _

She liked that idea. Being taken into a group of people that she could listen to and be listened by. Talk to and be talked to. That sounded sweeter than honey to Garcia. Sweeter than Hansel and Gretel's gingerbread house. Sweeter than Cinderella's wedding cake.

* * *

><p><span>A week later<span>

Stephanie took her bow, holding Brendon's hand. The other actor's joined and they bowed together, before holding out their hands to the tech manager at the back to acknowledge him, and yelling out Mr Adams' name in a totally unprofessional way to acknowledge _him. _Garcia clapped loudly.

She put her accessories and costumes in the box labelled 'Cinderella' that Mr Adams was going to take home and sort. She said goodbye to a few of the actors even if they'd barely talked, said goodbye to Mr Adams and felt a bit of remorse on that one, like she'd felt that morning, leaving the house. She'd wished she could've hugged Jena and promised her that it wasn't her fault and that she still loved her, but of course that didn't happen. Jena was a lot of things packed into one too; maybe she should be 'Garcia' as well. There wouldn't be two like Jena, which was the thing about autism. There weren't two alike. There were similarities and certain traits, but no two people were at the same level with the same strategies and the same strengths to help them out. There wasn't a cure to autism; it wasn't a disease like the flu where one syrup did the trick to rid all symptoms.

She didn't go back to class as planned, she went past the cafeteria and outside, to the bus drop-off, where the last bus from the elementary school who'd came to watch their play was leaving, and where a troupe of girls in silver were waiting.

"Garcia finished all her shows!" Thalia said, spotting her. Everyone cheered.

"Ready?" Lucy asked her.

"Of course, I've been ready since Fiona stalked me."

"Which wasn't the best approach," Ann admitted. "It scared the living Hades out of me."

"Oh, shoot me." Fiona said. "Wait, bows down girls, I was kidding."

Steph laughed and Thalia handed her the bow and quiver of arrows she'd be using from now on.

"There you go, Steph. You're officially one of us now." Thalia said. "Now come on, Artemis called last night, and you'll never guess where we're all going."

* * *

><p><strong>Next:<strong>

**Name: **Ariel

**Surname: **Walker

**Birthday: **Supposedly February 15th

**Mother's name: **?

**Father's name: **Darth Vader (Maybe)

**Mother's contact: **You tell me

**Father's contact: **See above answer

**Siblings: I** suppose all of humanity is inter-connected so everyone in this room. To be more specific: Oprah and I are reincarnated forms of two sisters separated during the tragic sinking of the Titanic when I tragically drowned to give my spot on the lifeboat up to a pregnant woman.

**Home address: 3478 Newcastle Private, TX, USA**

**Home phone number: **546-768-9990 [subject to change]

**Favourite colour: **Blue

**Favourite animal: **Dogs

**Favourite movie: **the Star Wars Trilogy (but not the crappy prequels)[not subject to changge]

**My main hobby is: **…

**My motto is: **Pie is delicious, all else is regardless

**My biggest fear is: **I kind-of faced 'abandonment', 'the dark', 'school bullies', 'water', 'heights', 'dogs' and 'new people' before, so really that leaves birds and death


	13. Ariel Walker

**Hi, remember me? Contrary to popular belief, I do remember this story. I've just been sick lately, and I still am (let's not get into my new medical developements, I don't feel like it), but now I'm better. So I had time to write this one and I'm telling you, it's even longer than Stephanie's was! **

**This time I promise, no more than two weeks as the ultimate-max-of-life wait for the next chapter, and I'm kind of eager to see what theories you'll have about who the next girl is... Anyways, enjoy this one! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own.**

**Dedication: So I kind-of need to explain that I was inspired a lot by the book It's Kinf of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini when it came to the psychiatric hospital. Courage and strenght to all the people who are dealing with a mental illness right now. And to everyone who is struggling with identity questions. **

* * *

><p><span>Ariel Walker<span>

_2007_

"Slow down Gandalf," Ariel said, pulling on the leash. Gandalf froze mid step and turned around and looked at her, panting.

"Yeah who's a good dog? Who's a good dog?" Ariel said, walking up to him, kneeling and rubbing him behind the ears. He was a pure-breed golden retriever; the only thing in the McIntyre household that wasn't taken in, messed up, or confused.

"Sometimes I think you're quite the good dog whisperer yourself."

She turned around and saw Leo, who was meant to help walk the dog but let Ariel do it. The foster kids were split into groups of two and told to take turns walking the dog; for a sense of 'belonging' and 'responsibility' or some other therapeutic crap apparently. Also because dogs were supposed to be beneficial and touching and change a kid's life, sort-of like land-dwelling dolphins. Most pairs would argue and argue about who got to hold the leash, but she didn't have that problem. Leo was fine with letting her walk the dog as long as he got to follow and get out of the McIntyre Madness Mansion.

"Maybe I can get my own TV show," she said.

"Yeah, then get out of here." Leo said. "Make me your tech guy or something."

"You can fix my limo, Valdez." Ariel grinned. He grinned back.

"Be good to me, pay well." He said.

"I don't know about that…"

"You're so cheap Walker," he said. "After all the times I let you walk the dog."

"And pick up its crap."

"You enjoy walking the dog and picking up its crap." Leo said. Which, Ariel wasn't gonna lie, was true. She liked being responsible for something and for someone. So far her life had been about zero of that, and it'd been going down a hill on a bicycle with no breaks and her hands off the pedals.

They kept going down the sidewalk and Leo yelled 'squirrel!' like, five times, just to freak out Gandalf.

"Deaf dog my butt, he's friggin fine." Leo said once Gandalf swivelled violently.

"It's a predatory instinct!" Ariel defended.

"I've got those too." Leo said casually.

"Is that so?" She asked, not being able to imagine Leo running around with a spear ready to stab through something.

"Totally. Tag, you're it!" He said before taking off. She called him a name and hesitated for a second, before unclipping Gandalf's collar from the leash and running, the dog at her side.

She caught up with Leo on the top of the play structure of the park they'd just hit, and he chased her again around trees, under ramps and slides, kicking up sand and freshly towed grass that had long since died in the hot Texas air.

Then they had to get Gandalf, who kept running from them.

"Come on dog!" Leo said. "More like prey instincts than predatory instincts for crying out loud!"

Ariel tackled Gandalf and clipped the leash on his collar.

"You, on the other hand, could hunt moose with your bare hands."

"Why I'm so flattered Leo." She said. "Maybe I could get my own show for that too."

"Or at least half a million hits on YouTube."

She tied the leash around a pole holding up the swing set and sat on the nearest one. Leo came on the other and they swung for a bit, trying to go higher than the other. A family of four came in through one of the paths that led to the smaller private streets on the other side from the McIntyre's house. Two girls with matching braids and pink sundresses, one on a scooter and one on a tricycle, followed by their parents a few steps back; a young couple holding hands.

Ariel and Leo were both swinging leisurely, watching sand castles be built, pushes on the child swings be requested, slides being slid down, and 'one more push mommy' begged for, before the small family walked off. The two girls ran in zigzags, letting their parents handle the scooter and tricycle.

"That looks smooth," Ariel said, not even pumping her legs anymore.

"What does?"

"Just, you know… Them."

"The two squirrels over there that Gandalf's eyeing?"

"No dummy, the little family." She said. Leo started chewing on the inside of his cheeks. She hated to bring up family around Leo who'd lost all of his in a freak accident, but she couldn't help herself.

Ariel was a foundling. She'd been found outside a fire station, crying and wailing in the middle of the night- February's warmest apparently, so at least there was that. Not a medical bracelet, not a token, not a note; nothing. If you were going to already abandon your child and dump all the responsibilities on someone else for the next eighteen years of life, how much harder was it to write a note? "Btw, her name is [insert name] and she is born on [insert date]". Even a name would've been amazing. Maybe her mother would hate the name 'Ariel', or she actually had the same name as her aunt.

Ariel had no idea who her parents were, what her real last name and surname were supposed to be (if they'd even thought about it), or anything. The firefighters had taken her to the hospital, a nurse had named her something cute in the meantime, and her birthday and last name had been officialised on a birth certificate by a court once her parents had been searched for -in vain- and a doctor had examined her to estimate her age.

She'd been from foster home to foster home her whole life, and would be for a whole second life probably. So just looking at those little girls and two happy parents… She _had _to wonder. _Could I could have that? Why couldn't I have had that? _

"I guess," Leo said. "I never had a dad, so I don't know what that's like. But moms are cool. Moms hold the world together. And duct tape. Duct tape and mothers."

"And paperwork," she reminded. "Always paperwork."

Birth certificates, newspaper articles, research warrants, social security number, blank spots that Ariel couldn't fill out in signup sheets…

"Right you are," he said.

And she knew they were going to face a whole new breed of it tomorrow morning.

* * *

><p>"So class," Miss Pilgrim said. "I'll hand you these sheets and I want you to fill it in so I know a bit more about you."<p>

English was fourth period and so this was the fourth sheet they'd had to fill out since that was what teachers did on the first day of school. Leo turned back to face her and they rolled their eyes in sync. The papers were passed from the front and Ariel settled down and filled it in as best as she could.

**Name: **Ariel

**Surname: **Walker

**Birthday: **Supposedly February 15th

**Mother's name: **?

**Father's name: **Darth Vader (Maybe)

**Mother's contact: **You tell me

**Father's contact: **See above answer

**Siblings: **I suppose all of humanity is inter-connected so everyone in this room. To be more specific: Oprah and I are reincarnated forms of two girls born and separated during the tragic sinking of the Titanic

**Home address: **3478 Newcastle Private, TX, USA

**Home phone number: **546-768-9990 [subject to change]

**Favourite colour: **Blue

**Favourite animal: **Dogs

**Favourite movie: **the Star Wars Trilogy [not subject to change]

**My main hobby is: **… [Probably subject to change]

**My motto is: **Pie is delicious, all else is regardless

**My biggest fear is: **I kind-of faced 'abandonment', 'the dark', 'school bullies', 'water', 'heights', 'dogs' and 'new people' before, so really that leaves birds and death

**My favourite sport is: **Power dog-walking

**My favourite thing to eat: **Zataar pies from that Lebanese bakery

**Something I like is: **Aliens

**My best friends: **Gandalf the dog, Jeremy Longbow and Leo Valdez

**What I want to be when I grow up: **Work for NASA/be a vet/independent alien researcher

**What I like about school is: **The little bell at 2:15 PM

**Something the teacher should know about me is: **I don't enjoy answering these question-thingies, so could you guys just share one copy? Plus it'd save trees and whatcrud.

She put the paper at the corner of her desk and drummed her fingers. Leo leaned back and she leaned forwards to hear him say;

"I put cyborgs and tuna as my biggest fear." He said. Ariel bit her lips to choke back laughter, and sat back down as Miss Pilgrim came up and picked up the sheets. She looked at them quickly as she picked them up, and turned back to see Leo and Ariel once, before going back and picking the other sheets.

They played a 'do you know everyone's name?' game and then Miss Pilgrim explained the curriculum, and then they were free for lunch.

Except for Ariel and Leo, who presented themselves at the desk in front at the demand of Miss Pilgrim. She looked up at them, strict as a hawk. An apparently deeply insulted hawk, at that.

"I'd like you to sit down and complete your forms please," she said handing the two forms back.

Ariel sighed. It was her turn to explain again, since she and Leo took turns.

"See Miss Pilgrim, we're in the foster care, which means that unless you want us to pretend that the President's our father and that Shaina Twain is our mom, we can't put something down. The personal contact thing goes down the drain too seeing as heaven and hell aren't in the phone book."

Miss Pilgrim looked taken back as if she'd just stepped and broken a thousand dollar diamond.

"Okay," she said. "May I know your parents' name anyways?"

"Write Esperanza Valdez for me," Leo said, his face long and emotionless, and stale as army food.

She scribbled it on after Leo spelled it out for her.

"And your father?"

"Put a little question mark." Leo said.

"Yeah, and I'm a foundling," Ariel said. "So you're fresh out of luck. Later Miss Pilgrim."

Taking advantage of the teacher's shock, they left.

"That was dramatic," Ariel said, miraculously remembering the numbers of her lock combo and fishing out her lunchbox.

"I'll say," Leo said. "Think she feels super crummy for making two orphans remember their parents? Or lack-of?"

"Definitely," Ariel said.

"Although, good touch by identifying yourself as a foundling, it shocked way more than saying 'don't know' and 'don't know', or 'don't care'." Leo said. "You should totally do that again with the math teacher we're going to get next period and see what kind of a face the he's gonna get."

Ariel slammed her locker door.

"Have you ever thought of it as something other than a game, V? Having no parents and breaking it to the people who insist on knowing?" Ariel asked. Leo closed his locker and stared at the blue metal door for a minute.

"Nah. 'Cause games are fun, but having no parents isn't."

* * *

><p>Ariel lied in bed.<p>

The thing about lying in bed, was that it was one of those things that rocked and sucked at the same time. It rocked, because it was all quiet, nobody was yelling at you, you were all comfortable even if it was a million degrees outside and you got to hug a pillow and nobody noticed because it was dark, so that was soft too.

The thing that sucked was that nobody was yelling at you and it was quiet and so you got to think a lot.

Ariel had made some pretty great scientific progress while lying in a bed. Maybe not this specific bed. She'd gotten three foster homes after all, which was considered okay after you met a guy like Leo. One from the time she'd been a baby to the time she'd been a toddler, she'd then gotten pulled out -not because she got older- but because they thought that she might get adopted. But it didn't work out, so foster home number two came out, and when she'd gotten to the middle-school bit of her life she'd gotten here. It'd been a year now, when she'd started sixth grade.

Regardless; in bed hugging her pillow that nobody could see; Ariel had determined that Star Wars was indeed God's gift to mankind (if not specifically _her)_, that sleeping with insomniac roommates sucked (fifteen year old Annie was now in an overnight help center for the bulimic and anorexic, but before that, it'd sucked), she did not care who her parents were since they didn't care for her, and Leo Valdez sure made a lot of noise in the room next door. I mean, what the freak could a guy be doing at eleven o'clock at night?

But now she was revisiting one of those facts.

See… Those girls in the park that she'd seen with Leo and Gandalf were lucky in ways that Ariel and Leo and Annie and whoever else just weren't. They had someone right next to them that was always there for them since she/he wasn't rotating attention amongst five kids and a dog (which may or may not count as an extra child). They had someone to sit down at the kitchen table and sort through pictures with during ancestry projects, and they had that thing called 'unconditional love' rooting for them.

Ariel had acknowledged during her life that being a foundling sucked, and if your initial situation sucked than the rest of your life wasn't that promising unless you lowered your standards and set the bar about as high as your knees. And even then, she'd had it smoother than some kids, like Leo (maybe because she wasn't a raging runway, but that was another story and Leo's problem). But still…People always wanted more. Some people wanted gold medals and fame and money and Ferraris and hot significant-others (and/or all of that at once). Was it so wrong for Ariel to want that too?

She twisted and turned. Finding parents wasn't totally impossible. It happened on the news and stuff all the time. Not _that _many people could've given birth on February 15th thirteen years ago. Surely there was a way to pin down and hunt down someone who had the same brown hair that wasn't pretty enough to be called 'chocolate brown' but not ugly enough to be 'mud' or 'poo' brown, or the cocoa eyes.

She twisted in bed. How could she do it? Maybe if she acted depressed and pathetic the social worker 'following her case' would sound the alarm and make magic happen.

Maybe.

* * *

><p>Ariel wasn't good at acting pathetic because the truth was, you couldn't be that pathetic when you sat between Leo and Jeremy on the bus.<p>

Jeremy's stop was last and since the bus driver didn't regulate the number of not-supposed-to-be-there kids who came on (most of them were high school students who just hopped on because there was a Dunkin Donuts and a Subway a short walk away from the middle school), Jeremy was usually stuck either standing up, or being stuffed into the overhead bag holders by some senior whose spot he'd requested.

So now Ariel was sandwiched between these two idiots who were making fun of her alien liking. Well, okay, it was an obsession.

"Nanoo, nanoo! Nanoo, nanoo!" Leo yelled, like the breeding cry of an exotic bird. It was because that morning, TFM (The Foster Mom) had heard Ariel rant about the Star Wars prequels and the dark roads it led science-fiction to, and she'd talked about a show she'd watched as a kid called Mork and Mindy. The alien said hi with 'nanoo, nanoo', showing its butt or something stupid like that. Leo was into it.

"Shut up in the back!" A bulky eight grader yelled back.

"Advance, brethren!" Jeremy yelled, mimicking what he assumed an alien invasion would look like.

"YO, I said shut up in the back!"

"Ah, but that does not apply to us for we are in fantastically far galaxies, thus we shan't obey," Jeremy said mystically.

"Nanoo, Nanoo!"

"Don't make me beat you up!" The same kid yelled. The bus went over hell of a bump.

Ariel was too busy laughing and trying to keep her stomach from imploding, but comments about the force that she could yell out raced through her mind.

* * *

><p>The only good thing about Mondays was that each one of them meant that Ariel missed second period art to talk to a guidance counsellor. So did Leo, although that usually lasted longer than two periods for him. Ariel was guessing that they were either a) monitoring The Valdez like hell so he wouldn't run off again, b) sitting in the little office laughing like lunatics at the crocodile mouths Leo did with Blackberry cases.<p>

The guidance counsellor for last names A-M talked to Ariel since the one for N-Z was busy with The Valdez. They sat in a pretty little office that could fit in with the IKEA catalogue, completed with fake plant, lemon polish odour and preppy posters showing people smiling or two hands held out to each other with captions like 'Suicide? You can talk to me about it' or 'Your problems are mine, because I care!'

"So," the guidance counsellor –preppy as her office, Beth O'Neil- said. "How was your day, Ariel?"

"I don't know, it's only second period. So far I've forced breakfast down my throat, I've been forced on a bus and I've been forced to do math. I can't decide if that's bad or just school. Now how was your day?"

"Okay," Beth O'Neil smiled politely and as cheesy as her posters. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

"Yeah, how are babies made?" Ariel asked. Ms. O'Neil blushed violently.

"Ariel, please." She said.

"Well you asked."

"I believe that that conversation is meant for health class." Ariel enjoyed seeing human facial characteristics turning red.

"Well, see, I don't have a Mom to give me the bees-and-butterfly talk, so I was hoping that-"

"Does that bother you?" Mrs. O'Neil cut. "That you don't have a mother to share these intimate moments with?"

"Well, I suppose. But don't dodge _my _questions by hiding behind my demons. They're not _that_ big." Ariel said.

"At what point does it bother you?"

"Oh here we go again," Ariel sighed. "No; I will not cut my wrists and I will not jump off bridges. I'm too lazy to walk to one anyways." She said like a perfectly rehearsed play line. "No I'm not bothered by who the heck my parents are. I have come to terms with the idea that I was hated before I could say the words 'screw you' and speak insults."

"You know Ariel; people don't always abandon their children because they hate them."

"Well it's not out of love."

"But it's not always out of hate."

"So what's the emotion then?"

"It was probably very hard for them. Maybe your parents couldn't take care of you. Maybe your mother was a single woman who wanted you to have the best chance you could've had."

"-Which is, of course, achieved by abandoning me in the middle of the night at the mercy of strangers, gangs, and racoons."

"Ariel, please." Ms. O'Neil said. "All that I'm saying is that I doubt anybody hates you."

"Look, all I'm saying, is that it'd be cool to know where the heck I came from, why the hell I was found by firefighters, and what my name should've been."

"I think you're struggling with your identity."

"No, my identity is Ariel Walker, girl, friend of Jeremy and The Valdez; hopeless Star Wars nerd and Obi Wan Kenobi fetish. I just want to know what identity I was _supposed _to have or _would _have had."

"I understand that but Ariel, don't you think that there is no 'supposed to'? That maybe there is just 'what we have'?"

Either way, as Ariel's guidance counsellor, Ms. O'Neil promised to do some digging.

* * *

><p>Ariel wasn't sure if she'd been hoping that Ms. O'Neil would be the archaeologist of Child Services' offices and records or what, but she caught herself fantasising about something other than Chewbacca and what her life would be like if she were a Vulcan.<p>

She had these ideas that maybe what Ms. O'Neil had said was true. Maybe Ariel's mom had loved her and it had ripped her heart out to give her up but that it was better for the baby, et cetera. Maybe her father hadn't known what to do with a little girl after her mother had died in childbirth and he'd wanted his little angel to go with someone who did. Maybe they'd rather she'd become a ward of the state so that she could tap into some state funds for education and so forth. She even had this dramatic hypothesis that her father was hunted by a bounty hunter and that if they found out about Ariel, the hunter/his employer would use her for levelling (okay, so maybe a bit of Star Wars did still seep into her thoughts). Maybe they mourned her abandonment every [insert actual date or birth that may or may not be February 15th].

Anyways, she tried to sleep some more and she tried not to hit Leo too much, but he was deserving it more and more each day.

Like, at dinner. TFM and TFD had had some kind of fight about the dog that morning and as to who had been meant to take the dog to the vet's. And not Gandalf, but that tiny little mean white terrier/schnauzer that was so ugly Megan Fox could carry it in her purse and nobody would think it wasn't from Hollywood. This was a debate that Ariel found fruitless because if the small dog stayed in a plaster for another week until the doggie hospital downtown had another appointment, it was just karma responding to all the damn thing's growling and being mean.

But Leo said something like 'if two foster parents get divorced, who has custody of the foster children?' once both TFM and TFD had stomped away from dinner angrily and everyone had stolen the food off their plates. Everyone laughed, but Ariel hit him and _then _laughed. He was an overall cool guy.

* * *

><p>She was on the Internet that night reading about an alien autopsy hoax where it had ended up that these 'leaked photos' were actually taken in a guy's garage. She found that hilarious.<p>

Scrolling through pages she found millions of other hoaxes, including a practical 'How to' guide that she swore one day to put to use.

She printed a few articles and glued them in her big spiral notebook that had started as a 'spiritual diary' suggested by her elementary school social worker, and had now turned into an 'Are Aliens Real?' research notebook, which also included a few alien/sky/space craft/aeronautics conspiracy theories. Her favourite was the Nazi UFO one, and also the all-the-famous-people-on-earth-are-actually-a-race-of-bloodthirsty-reptilian-shapeshifters-from-the-galaxy-Draco. Stickers of UFO's and foam googly-eyed Martians were on the front as well. She'd been keeping this notebook forever, and she'd need a new one soon enough. Leo had promised to buy the stickers if she promised to mention him one day when she'd have become famous via having made huge footsteps in the department.

She'd added to pages a million times. Sometimes writing a new fact she'd discovered in blue highlighter, adding little printed-out squares of texts from other articles explaining what the counter-theory was, what had actually happened, or when the guy who'd came up with the conspiracy theory had been diagnosed with schizophrenia or multiple personality disorder or both.

But never had she ever written down a real 'This has been proved to be aliens' or 'This must be what the counter-theory is'. She always kept the horizons open to yes and no's and maybe so's. That was part of foster homes. Never shut any doors or say goodbye forever, because Ariel never knew when she'd need to be able to talk to this or that important person of life, when she'd need to be able to go back to this or that place, or know people from here or there. She'd told Ms. O'Neil once and the guidance counsellor had nodded vigorously and said: "Good, Ariel, good. That's a great way to go about life."

Ariel glued an article about bacteria living in Venusian clouds into the notebook.

* * *

><p>Getting summoned from a class is intimidating for most kids considering that all the classmates went 'oooh' as soon as they spoke your name over the intercom system. Ariel was used to it. Guidance counsellors had crowded around her for most of her life (even if she'd insisted she was mentally stable, and just needed room to breathe), she'd gotten into her fair share of trouble with The Valdez and Jeremy over this past year, and she was always late in bringing back sign-up sheets for various activities.<p>

She got to the office and they directed her to Ms. O'Neil's office and so she went there.

She welcomed Ariel into her office and onto the usual chair, looking a little troubled.

"You wanted to see me, Ms.?"

"Yes. I can't make any promises and I don't know for sure, but" _you've found out who my parents are _"I think I may have traced down your mother."

Ariel's heart stopped and she smiled.

"Really? Who is she? Does she live in Houston, still? Is she married, does she have more kids, what is she like?" Ariel bombarded the counsellor with questions.

"Shh, Ariel, calm down." Ms. O'Neil said.

"Sorry. I've just wondered these things for a long time."

"Yes, and that's fine. Humans are curious, you have a right to be curious about anything. I know that you've always wanted answers deep down and that's fine because we all do. I know for now you're fearless about what may come up, but are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes," Ariel said. That second she forgot about all the 'other stories'. The kids whose parents really _had _hated them, or who were drug addicts, or teenagers who'd forgotten what birth control was_, _and all of that_. _Foundlings had especially great chances of falling into those categories and knew it, but Ariel forgot them and it was her mistake, and it was that mistake that cost her ignorance.

"Okay," Ms. O'Neil took a deep breath. "Okay. So as you know, Ariel, there is such a thing as… No, that's not how you say it… Some people…"

Ms. O'Neil stopped and reached for a file on her office.

"I think you should just read this," she said opening the file and finding a newspaper article clipping. It was old, as old as Ariel was, she realised with a start. Exactly two days younger than she was- dated February 17th.

**_Light Shines on Mistreatment and Neglect of Mentally Unstable People_**

_A woman was brought to the ER of the Houston General Hospital after nearly jumping off a building in downtown Houston late last night. An examination brought on by a psychiatrist showed that the woman was not suicidal, but more alarming, she showed signs of having recently given birth._

_ The woman was identified as Mary Elizabeth Gashow, a woman in her mid-twenties, most likely kicked out of her family home due to her Schizophrenia. According to the police, her family never sounded the alarm during her disappearance and no living relatives can be tracked down. Nor can the woman's baby._

_ Homeless people in downtown have said that they knew Mary Elizabeth and that she often slept in the same place, then disappeared for a few months, and then came back._

_"She was an oddball. We didn't know that she was schizophrenic, but she was an oddball. Talking to herself, becoming violent or unbelievably vulnerable and shy and scared for random reasons." A man says. _

_"No, she didn't like anybody. Wasn't into prostitution. Didn't know she had a baby." Hannah Gretchen, a homeless woman who knew Mary Elizabeth and was tracked down by the police, says._

_ This puts serious question into play. Why was a schizophrenic person not looked after better? Why wasn't she seeing a doctor who could have helped her with her condition? _

_ The baby has been searched for in vain and so far, Mary Elizabeth is unable to describe the baby, as if she'd never given birth. _

_ More on Page 5._

Ariel looked up.

"What?" She asked.

"I don't know if this is true," Ms. O'Neil said immediately. "You would need to get DNA tests done to know for sure. But since this article was published two days after your birthday and one day after you were found…"

"It's too obvious, no." Ariel said. "Can't be. They'd have connected the dots before."

"I know that you don't want to admit, but I've tried calling the psychiatric hospital where this woman is staying and supposedly she's mentioned once that her baby was a girl and-"

"So? Half of people are girls!" Ariel said immediately. "I'm not the only female on the face of the planet, much less Houston, Texas!"

"I know that Ariel, but I looked at every lead and if your story has one, this is it."

"Well then the story must have _no leads _because I'm not the daughter of some schizophrenic lady who didn't even realise she was a mom!" Ariel said.

"Ariel, please sweetheart, calm down…" Ms. O'Neil said. "I never said you forcefully were-"

"Yeah, I'm not!" Ariel said. Her eyes stung.

"I know that this isn't what you would ever have imagined or expected darling, but you've got to admit. It would make sense. It is definitely a possibility."

"And so is the possibility that I'm actually an alien sent to install a landing field for my fellow extra-terrestrials for them to invade the earth, but no one's looked into that one!" Ariel said.

"And so why is this idea so loony? Why are you so sure you're not? After all, somebody is."

* * *

><p>Ariel got to miss the rest of the day because she was 'too upset to properly function'. TFM brought her chocolate milk and a PB&amp;J sandwich in bed for lunch, and when he got back from school The Valdez came to find her.<p>

"Hey," he said making himself comfortable and sitting down on the other side of the bed, propped against the wall.

She pushed the comforter off her face.

"Hi." She said.

"Upset?"

"What about?" Ariel asked.

"About what Ms. O'Neil told you about who your mom might be." Leo said.

"How'd you know that?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

"Oh crap, does everybody know?"

"No, don't worry. Just the one."

Ariel sighed.

"I'm not happy with this development."

"I got that," Leo said. "Why? It doesn't mean that you're bad or that you're schizophrenic." He said sounding out 'schizophrenic' very carefully as to not miss a syllable.

"I know, but… Leo, did you ever have, like, the dream that a parent would come and pluck you out of the system?"

"My mom's dead." Leo said. "Nobody's picking me out of the system."

"Your dad, some aunt or uncle, a cousin, I don't know." Ariel said.

"No," Leo said. "As far as I'm concerned the closest thing to family I've got left are the guidance counsellors and TFM."

He got up.

"Just wanted to make sure you're okay." He said without the usual Valdez spirit. He left.

* * *

><p>Ms. O'Neil kept repeating to Ariel 'this is a longshot, sweetheart, it might not be true, I just thought you'd like to know' and kept beating herself up for sharing such 'distressing news'. Why the terms of endearment had started now, Ariel had no idea. But it was annoying as heck.<p>

To put her mind to rest, Ariel accepted to take the DNA test to see if this Mary Elizabeth Gashow really was her not-foster Mom. The Child Services people insisted that it would be a good idea. It would 'help Ariel define her history and identity' (? Once again: Ariel Walker, that's it. The only reason she'd even asked about her parents was to know why she was abandoned, not who her parents were- which were indeed two different things), make filling out forms easier, be useful in case there was any medical history to look into at some point, and it might even help resolve the case of the mysterious M.E.G.

A.k.a. they wanted to test her spit or urine with the spit or urine of people who might've possibly raped M.E.G.

Splendid.

It took a while for the tests to come back positive, which meant that all along Ariel's mom had also been a responsibility of the state, living in the same city, with an equally vague file as Ariel.

This sucked. She spent another day in her room, under the covers, brain-dead, eating PB&J sandwiches, drinking chocolate milk and hugging her Alien Research notebook. And a pillow.

Next Monday, Ms. O'Neil showed pictures of Mary Elizabeth to Ariel and talked a bit about her, transmitting information that she'd gotten out of the secretary of the psychiatric hospital.

That sucked too.

She spent the week thinking that a lot of things about the world sucked. TFM and TFD hovered around Ariel when they weren't taking care of Gandalf or The Valdez or the three other kids or fighting with each other, and even when they were doing those things too, which was aggravating. When Ariel figured out that they were watching her for depression and suicide, she lost it and freaked out and yelled at them all. This didn't help her case. Even The Valdez didn't know what to do.

"You know Ariel," Ms. O'Neil said during their next meeting, "I think that maybe visiting your mother might help."

"What?" She asked.

"It might help you understand your situation better. Do you know what schizophrenia is? Do you know what your mother is like?"

"No, and I'm not interested." Ariel said. "I wanted to know _why _I was abandoned, _if _I might have had a chance to have a family, you know? Like, _could _they have kept me or was it a no-choice-but abandonment? I didn't _want _to know who she was, or what she looked like, or what she was like!"

"You would've gotten curious over time. You would have found out eventually."

"Well 'eventually' is a better time than 'now'." Ariel said crossing her arms.

But eventually she agreed to Ms. O'Neil's idea.

* * *

><p>"Usually they only allow people who are older than sixteen to visit," Ms. O'Neil said, walking across the parking lot, Ariel at her side. "They made an exception for you."<p>

"Hurrah," Ariel said. She was nervously playing with her hair. She wondered if her mother was _really _far out, kind of schizophrenic. What if she was violent? Heck, she didn't even have a splinter of an idea on what to expect.

"Are you okay, Ariel?" Ms. O'Neil asked.

Ariel nodded. The guidance counsellor knelt in front of Ariel and put a hand on each arm.

"Nobody is going to blame you if you don't want to go, okay? Nobody is pushing you. If we go through those doors, it's because you want to."

"Yeah." Ariel nodded. It sounded fake and feeble to her.

"And if you're not comfortable at any point in the meeting, you know that we can leave, right?"

Ariel nodded.

"Remember, your mother isn't a bad person. She just has an illness. It's like some people have cancer- that doesn't change who they are. It changes how they live a bit. Okay?"

Ariel nodded.

Ms. O'Neil squeezed her arms. "You're very brave."

"Okay." Ariel said.

And so in they went.

There was a security guard at the front door.

"Hello," Ms. O'Neil said. "My name's Beth O'Neil, I'm a guidance counsellor. This is Ariel, she's here to see her mother."

"How old is she?" He asked suspiciously.

"Thirteen," Ms. O'Neil said. "But I talked to the director earlier, and she said we'd make an exception?"

"Thomas, it's fine," someone said. A woman with neat blond curls and crystal blue eyes walked up. She wore a pencil skirt and heels and a blouse, and there was a pass hanging around her neck. She looked too young to be the director of anything, so Ariel had one word: Botox. "Let them in."

He scanned his own pass and pushed a code into a keypad. The door opened and Ms. O'Neil pushed Ariel in first.

"Hello, you must be Beth O'Neil." The woman said.

"Yes, we spoke on the phone," Ms. O'Neil smiled.

"Yes, I'm Maxine Bless, the director of the hospital. And you must be Ariel Walker. Yes, we were excited when we found out about you. It's always been such a mystery to us, where Mary Elizabeth came from, I remember all the questions that were asked the day she got here." Mrs. Bless said.

Okay, so she was at least old enough to be the director _and _thirteen years older than that since she'd been here for as long as M.E.G. How old was this woman?

"Thomas, you can take them to the ward, it's an exception for today."

"Yes Mrs. Bless." Thomas agreed. There was nobody in line to check in, so Ariel and Ms. O'Neil signed in right away. She even let Ariel write on her own sticker.

**Name: Ariel Walker**

**Date of visit: 6/11/2007**

**Relationship to patient: daughter**

It felt weird to write it down. She wasn't used to being anybody's daughter. She was a foster daughter to TFM and TFD, but not a real came-from-your-insides-unconditional-love daughter.

Ariel put the sticker on her shirt and the security guard took them into hallways that led into wards. Nobody was there; they must all be in their respective wards.

Each door they passed was locked and the security guard, Thomas, unlocked them all the exact same way that he'd done to the first, and then he had to seal them. The security was harsher than it was on the Death Star. Thomas took Ms. O'Neil's car keys before leading them to the visitor's room.

The visiting room looked like an empty school gymnasium. It even had colourful lines on the floor to mark center line and the goalie's area. A table and chairs had been set up in one corner. It was weird to Ariel. She knew that these weren't normal visiting hours and that this had been set up just for her (which was awkward).

"You can sit down; I'll go tell the nurses that Mary E. has a visitor."

_Mary E, _Ariel thought. _Is that what everyone calls her here? Like, a nickname? Do they know her well enough for a nickname? _

And then she thought _oh damn, what am _I _going to call her?_

Before she could think, really, a woman came out escorted by a nurse and Ariel felt small and helpless and insignificant and horrible and shy.

She was the kind of person who'd be beautiful if they were living someone else's life. Her hair was dark brown, but knotted at places and shot with silvery gray ones. Her eyes were dull and brown. She was small and skinny and pale, there were blue circles under her eyes, and she wore unflattering jeans and a plain red t-shirt. She looked at Ariel for a bit.

"Sophie," she said.

"Pardon?" Ariel blurted out.

"You're Sophie. Oh god, you're, you're, oh my god, why is she my visitor?" Mary Elizabeth said, turning to the nurse.

Ariel panicked for a second.

"We told you yesterday, Mary." The nurse said kindly. "It's alright."

"Right. Right, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, your name isn't Sophie. What's your name?" She asked Ariel.

Ariel felt her vocal cord freeze and the speaking part of her brain cut off from the rest of her brain.

"This is Ariel," Ms. O'Neil filled in for her.

"That's pretty. That's real pretty. The name."

"Thank you." Ariel said quietly, even if the comment was kind.

"You can sit down Mary," the nurse said.

"Right, tight, I'm sorry." She said, sitting down in front of Ariel. "I'm glad you had a pretty name. That's why I named you Sophie, 'cause Sophie was pretty. But if Ariel's your name, that's good."

"Your name is pretty too," Ariel said.

"Thank you. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry." Ariel said, unsure whether or not she was supposed to reply to her. She looked at the nurse and at Ms. O'Neil, but neither of them said anything.

"Yeah. Yeah. Okay. I'm sorry. You're a pretty girl."

"Thank you. You're pretty too." Ariel could cope with this. Her mother was a nice and quiet woman, and so far they'd talked about pretty names and how everyone in the room was pretty. Ariel had never considered herself pretty, just not-ugly; brown hair over one shoulder, brown eyes, not skinny, not fat. This was okay. This was manageable.

"I guess. This is always what happens to pretty people." She said. She shook her head. "I'm sorry you're pretty."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." Ariel said, not sure what else to reply.

"You always think you're fine but then they come out of nowhere… They're like sharks. And when they smell blood they want blood." Mary Elizabeth said.

"Yeah, sharks suck." Ariel agreed. She looked at the nurse who nodded encouragingly.

"Like wolves," Mary said.

"Wolves suck too." Ariel said.

It was quiet for a second.

"Hey, umm, do you remember my birthday?" Ariel asked. This was a longshot, but Ariel had always wondered if it were her birthday. She always thought it would be so weird if her birthday wasn't on the fifteenth of February. It'd be like going out and ringing people's doorbells saying 'trick or treat' on November first. Major longshot, though: TFD didn't remember TFM's birthday, so a schizophrenic woman who abandoned her daughter..?

"I saw a ladybug on the windowsill this morning," she said instead. Ariel frowned but she remembered that one of the symptoms that she and Ms. O'Neil had talked about was incoherent speech. So, like, one thought line went to another but not in an unhealthy way that the person thought was totally normal.

"Really? How many spots?" Ariel asked, going with it.

"I think the oil price raised too." She replied.

"Shame," Ariel said.

Mary's eyes started tearing up.

"That's what they said too," she said. "That's what they said too, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry…"

"I- I didn't mean- no, don't be sorry."

The nurse knelt next to Mary.

"She's not mad, Mary. You're okay, you're safe here. You're talking to Ariel, remember."

"The way fish breathe underwater is through gills on the sides of their neck."

"Yes, I know Mary. Can you talk to Ariel again?"

"That's why humans like Sophie can't breathe underwater, no gills."

Mary's eyes widened, looking at the nurse. "You have gills, oh my God, good Lord…"

"Okay Mary, we're going to go back to your room, okay?" The nurse said. She smiled at Ariel.

"She was doing really good today, and she was excited to have a visitor after all these years."

"No no no no no," Mary said shaking her head. "Not my room, no no no, please, no…"

"Okay Ariel, come on." Ms. O'Neil said.

"Goodbye," Ariel told Mary. She didn't care if this woman was having a psychotic meltdown, she was still a human, and Ariel would still be polite with her.

"No no no no no no…" Mary said, shaking her head. "Not my room, it's not safe there. The gas- it comes through the air vents- no…"

The nurse took a walkie-talkie from her waist and said something that Ariel didn't listen to. She was looking at Mary Elizabeth. Pretty soon a big beefy man nurse came and took Mary by the arm. She was sobbing at this point, begging not to go back to her room. Ariel felt a sob building up inside of her, too.

The nurse followed M.E.G. and the nurse-man.

"Okay," Thomas said. "I'll escort you back outside, then."

Ms. O'Neil put an arm around Ariel and squeezed. They walked out, the guidance counsellor got her keys back, the doors opened for them and locked behind them.

It was at the last door that Ariel had big, big tears in her eyes and down her cheeks and she wasn't sure why.

Her mom was schizophrenic. That, she knew. Her mother didn't know her. That, she'd always known.

What was there left to be upset about?

Maybe it was that now, Ariel knew her mom. But these weren't happy tears, they were still sad. She hated herself for saying this, but her mom was helpless to the world. She didn't know what was real and what wasn't, she saw and heard things that were real. Was that what she'd been apologising at? Or had she been apologising at Ariel?

Maybe that's what Ariel liked about aliens. She didn't know about them, and if they were real, and where they were from and what they would like and how they'd feel about her, but she was _supposed _not to know these things; whereas in real life, she was just one of those people who didn't know these things except about her _parents_.

Ms. O'Neil let her cry for a while, and then spoke up. "We've got to leave, sweet pea."

"Okay," Ariel said. And so they left.

* * *

><p>"How'd it go?" TFM asked Ariel when she came down from her room a few hours later, after supper.<p>

"Ms. O'Neil didn't tell you?"

"No, she said it was your call." TFM said.

Ariel had never been more grateful to anybody.

* * *

><p>On Monday, Ms. O'Neil didn't try to make her talk. She just said to Ariel 'anytime, okay?' and then at the end said 'Ask a teacher to go to the bathroom if things aren't going right and head on over, okay?'<p>

* * *

><p>The Valdez and Jeremy were thankfully still there for her. Leo didn't ask how it'd gone down, and Jeremy didn't know. She rather keep it that way- for both of them. They were still idiots and they were still funny. They laughed together, they walked Gandalf, they teamed up for projects, and the guys still made fun of her alien obsession, although at this point she was a lot more into it.<p>

Maybe if she could figure out if aliens were real, other mysteries wouldn't matter.

* * *

><p>During math class she wasn't paying attention. Even less than usual, and this time not on purpose.<p>

She made an executive decision, and went to see Ms. O'Neil after class.

"I want to see my mom again," she said.

* * *

><p>It became a routine. Every Saturday (since they couldn't always do it on weekdays), Ms. O'Neil would pick Ariel out of the foster home, and they'd drive to the hospital. Ariel didn't call it 'the psychiatric hospital', just the hospital.<p>

Her mom was starting to recognise her now. She still got called Sophie, and other things too sometimes, but she didn't mind that much anymore. Conversations didn't go any better, even with all the medication she was under, M.E.G.'s schizophrenia was bad. One of the worst cases; one of the cases that didn't have a chance to fit IRL just yet. Mary Elizabeth had to be escorted out of the visitor's room each time. Something would just click in her mind after a while and there it went.

She wasn't sure how she felt about her mom yet. It was definitely not love. It was not hate either at this point. M.E.G. was nice, but she wasn't sure if that was real or not. She guessed that she liked knowing that her mother was there, and she liked getting to see this person and associate a name and face to this abstract concept of motherhood.

But her mom was like tie-die, not the real format and not the real shape of the die, but something close of what she'd been before she'd become schizophrenic.

"But you are making her better, Ariel." The nurse said. "She's talking more now. She used to be real quiet, and she still is, but now when we ask her a question she'll talk more often. On Wednesday she was really disappointed and when we asked her why she was sad, she said 'Because Jessica hasn't come and it's Saturday'."

That made Ariel weepy on the way out. She hadn't cried since the first visit.

* * *

><p>It was early December when she got the news.<p>

She was with Ms. O'Neil that morning; talking about this Russian satellite the Russians were working on. She'd taken, like, five pages of the notebook about it. There were seven left. The Valdez was working on buying some stickers. He was struggling, because TFM was too irritated at everybody to even consider lending money, mostly because of TFD, but also because of TFD's face and TFD's stuff in the house and TFD's car.

"Ariel, I need to talk to you about something." Ms. O'Neil said very seriously.

"Sure, what is it?" Ariel asked.

"This is going to be a big cannonball, but you've got to remember that some things are for a greater purpose, and you've got to look at the bigger picture, okay hon?"

"Yeah," Ariel said. TFD and TFM were probably getting a divorce at last, and everyone was going to have to go to a new foster home. Crap! Would she still be in the same one as The Valdez? Would she be able to go into court to win over custody of Gandalf? Would she go to the same school?

"You know there are thousands of psychiatric hospitals and wards all over the United States, right?"

"Yeah," Ariel said. She'd never thought about it or looked it up, but there must be.

"And some of them are better than others for different people."

"Like The Valdez and his foster homes."

"Yes, quite like Leo." Ms. O'Neil said. "But not everyone can get into them, it's like how not everybody can sit in the back row in class, or how not everybody gets to go outer space with NASA. But there are waiting lists."

Ariel's stomach sunk.

"And the people who really need to get into these hospitals are high on the lists, so when a bed is free, they get to go."

"Oh my God." Ariel said.

"Yes, Ariel. Your mom just got into one of the best psychiatric hospitals in the country." Ms. O'Neil said, "In the state of Washington."

Ariel bit her lips. She should be happy. She should be rejoicing that M.E.G. was going to get better care and better nurses and better meds. She should be, like, doing cartwheels and buying a cake. But she felt hollow.

"Ariel?" Ms. O'Neil asked. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know."

* * *

><p>She got to see M.E.G. one last time.<p>

"Bye Mary," Ariel said.

"Goodbye Jasmine. Are you coming to Washington, too?"

"No," Ariel said. "You're going to go on your own."

"They're trying to ship me off alone. They don't want me. They're always trying to get rid of me, always, you should see what they do to my food."

Paranoia was a symptom.

"Yes they _do_ want you. They want you so much, they're bringing you to Washington so they can have you except…"

What was the word? Healthy? Sane? Whole? Normal? Better?

"Except happier," Ariel said.

"I don't know how I'll be happy on my own, Louisa. The voices say I should be miserable. I don't deserve happiness."

"I'm sure you'll find a way. And everyone deserves happiness, you too. Washington's a cool place."

"The president's there."

"No, he's in Washington D.C.; you're going to the state." Ariel said. She tried not to cry. Both of those places were far away. It seemed cruel to give her half the mother she was expecting to get, and then take her away.

"Spies," she said shaking her head. "Terrorists, conspirators…" She shook her head. "Bad. I'm not in Kansas anymore."

Paranoia.

"Have you seen the movie?" Ariel asked.

"What film?"

"The Wizard of Oz."

"Don't be silly, that's not a movie." M.E.G. said. "It's a book, it's a classic."

"They also made a movie. And a Broadway musical."

"That's crap, it's a book. You can't be more than one thing."

"True," Ariel said. "I have to go now."

"Okay. Goodbye Sophie."

* * *

><p>A week later, TFM and TFD got into their biggest fight yet while assembling the Christmas tree. The next day they announced that they were getting divorced after the holidays, and that some of the kids would stay with TFM and others would be relocated. This, of course, did not even surprise Gandalf.<p>

The only reason Ariel was in the Christmas spirit was because Leo had actually _built himself _one of those cheesy hats with the mistletoe hanging in front of him, and Jeremy sang carols in the bus (and then got beat up by bullies who chanted 'RUM PA PUM PUM' while doing so).

* * *

><p>It was early January when the fire happened. Right down the street, a house burned down. It'd started with the Christmas tree, early in the morning at, like, 3:00 AM.<p>

Leo sat on the front porch, starring at the ruined house, which was sealed off by yellow caution tape and still surrounded by fire trucks and police cars. Thankfully, everybody had made it out in time, but Leo looked shell-shocked. Nothing could be salvaged or rebuilt from it.

"Are you okay?" Ariel asked, sitting down next to him.

"That fire…" Leo said. "The smoke was so black… It was so much, like…"

Leo shook his head. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go walk Gandalf."

* * *

><p>Two nights later, Ariel was walking back from the bathroom when she heard fumbling from The Valdez' room. Was he having, like, a seizure or something?<p>

She heard the window open.

_Oh my God he was going to jump! _ Was the only thing that she thought.

She pushed the door and saw him crouched on the window sill, one leg out, one on the desk.

"OhmyGodArielshutupdon'tsayaword!" He said before she could yell 'DON'T JUMP!'

"What do you think you're doing?" She hissed, shutting the door behind her. He was fully dressed, and he had a backpack on his back. Okay, not suicide, that was good.

"I'm leaving," he whispered back.

"What? You can't just leave!"

"Sure I can, I'm a runner." Leo said. "This is what I always do."

"Why? You have friends here. You actually do have a soft spot for Gandalf. You like the food TFM makes- the tacos, the spaghetti, the pizza..." Then she got it. Leo was doing so well here, as far as Leo went. What had done him in? "It was the fire wasn't it?"

Leo shivered. "I just… I can't handle that, okay? I can't."

"I saw your face." Ariel said.

"I don't _do _fire." Leo said.

"Running away is not the way to solve that problem!"

"It is for me," Leo said. "Look, I rather leave than have to stick around and deal with crap that I can't control. I don't like being deposited at random places for random reasons. When the dust settles and TFM and TFD are divorced, I don't want to just be told where to live. When a house bursts into flames down my street because of a Christmas tree and that's how my mom died, I don't want to be told to cool it and relax about it."

Ariel didn't know what to say. Leo was freaking out about this, he'd been freaking out since the day that house burned. He couldn't do it. He couldn't handle fire. And when he couldn't handle things, he ran. That's what he did. It was his defence mechanism. She couldn't say 'what about me, I'm your friend?' or 'but Leo…' or 'I'll wake up TFM and wake up TFD who's sleeping in the basement'. No. Leo was managing his own life.

"Okay," she said. "I won't tell them. Best of luck, Valdez."

"Ditto Walker," he said.

And then he swung his other leg out of the window, climbed down the tree, and that was the last Ariel saw of him.

* * *

><p>She went back into her room and lied awake.<p>

Was she that different than Leo? She didn't want to admit that she didn't know stuff, so she looked into things that nobody knew about. Leo didn't want to stay, so he didn't stay.

Her mother had been sent to Washington. She hadn't wanted to go to Washington, but since she wasn't 'legally fit' to say 'no, I don't want this treatment' they'd made her go anyways.

Ariel couldn't control where the government sent her 'mother'.

Ariel couldn't control the fact that Mary Elizabeth Gashaw was a schizophrenic who had lived on the street and had probably gotten impregnated by some douche who'd taken advantage of her.

Ariel was going to have no place to live when the papers got through the court so one was going to be assigned to her, and she wasn't going to be able to control where that place was.

Ariel didn't know anything about herself anymore- was she Ariel or Sophie? Walker or Gashaw? _You can't be more than one thing, _Mary Elizabeth had said.

Why didn't she pick her own place in the world and her own place to be? Why couldn't she control at least _something? _

She liked that idea very much.

She dumped the stuff out of her schoolbag and stuffed in the clothes that she actually liked. A flashlight keychain she'd gotten when the Red Cross came to present at her school, a water bottle, some Butterfingers hidden under her bed, her Alien research book, a blue highlighter, and the new spiral notebook she'd gotten on Christmas with the Valdez' stickers on it. She ripped out the first two pages.

* * *

><p><em>Dear Mr and Mrs. McIntyre,<em>

_Thanks for the hospitality, access to your dog, food and water and kindness. I owe you one. But for now I'm off because I'm sick and tired of a lot of things. You're not responsible for any of them. I don't know who is. Add that to the list…_

_ Love,_

_ Ariel_

* * *

><p><em>Dear Ms. O'Neil,<em>

_ I'm not mentally distressed, and I don't want to throw myself off a bridge or anything. Don't worry about that. I'm going to be fine, I can tell. Gut feeling._

_ I just needed you to know this one thing before I ran away, because I'm never going to tell any of the Child Services people, but I will tell you._

_ I don't know who I am because I'm not even sure if Mary Elizabeth is my mother. I mean, I know I have her DNA and that I was in her womb for nine months and all that, but I don't know if I want her to be my mom. Also, I don't know where I'm going to live in three weeks, where I'm going to end up in life, where my mom's going to end up, and where everything is going to finish, or if things are ever _going _to finish. I think that's what I liked so much about aliens. When it came to them, I didn't know, but in that case; it was okay. But it's not okay to not-know the rest of the things I don't know. _

_ I guess that I wanted to know something; so I know I'm running away and I know I'm going to get caught eventually, and I know where I want to go, and I know you'll get this letter._

_ Thank you for the extra hours you put in. You didn't get paid for driving me to the hospital every weekend, but you did it anyways. You made me realise that I wasn't upset that I didn't know why I was abandoned specifically, I was just upset that I didn't know things. You're also the only person who connected the dots between M.E.G. and me, so I owe you big time for that one. I officially grant you the title of only Guidance Counsellor I know of who has a heart and a career. _

_ Love,_

_Ariel Sophie Gashaw Walker _

_PS- I'm not with The Valdez. He's on his own, I'm on his own. If you see him again, tell him I say hi. Unless I see him again too, and I kind-of think I will. _

_PPS- Also, I'm not going to Washington. _

* * *

><p>She left them on her bed and escaped through Leo's room because the tree was there.<p>

And she ran off too.

* * *

><p>Well, Ariel didn't run, exactly. She walked, because who was going to stop her, it was the middle of the night?<p>

She ate a Butterfinger. She knew where she wanted to go. The fire station where she'd been found. She had no idea why she wanted to go there, but she knew, so that was something.

It wasn't too far away, about an hour's walk. And so she walked for an hour. She saw a gang eventually, but she changed streets and was left alone. She saw a police car, knew that she'd technically be supposed to be inside since she was a minor, but he had a girl wearing what was clearly not a uniform in shotgun, so she didn't worry too much about him.

She sat against the brick wall of the fire station for a while. Okay, there she was. Now where would she go?

She wondered if Leo ever had a plan or if he just ran off.

She decided that she wanted to go to the park and swing at night time. She felt free and solitary and independent and strong under the moonlight, so she was going to go swing. Heck yeah. She'd put distance between the McIntyre House of Madness and her later.

She walked away from the firehouse and down the silent sidewalk. She wasn't scared of the night or the unknown for some reason. She was only scared of getting caught.

* * *

><p>She lasted two days after that. She spent a night in someone's unlocked garage –which was risky but cool and kind of thrilling. The other she spent with a bunch of homeless people who were so nice Ariel was pretty sure she wouldn't get attacked. She gave them her last Butterfingers.<p>

During the days; she chilled downtown and walked through stores and tried not to take attention. At some point she heard a TV blare out an Amber Alert. It was kind of satisfying to have the reporter physically describe her, her school picture pop up in the upper left corner of the screen while she was right under the TV. She assumed The Valdez had been found if he wasn't an Amber Alert, which kind-of put her feel like _ha- I outlasted the runner of the Houston Child Services, take that bitches! _

On the third day she was sitting on a bench downtown and two girls sat down on either side of her. It looked like a conspiracy and Ariel felt suddenly like a deer in the headlights.

"Look Ariel, you can't run forever," the first girl said. She had short black hair and these electric blue eyes that scared the life out of her. "Unless you run with someone who knows what they're talking about."

"Like who?" She asked trying to sound tough to ward them off. "Girl scouts?"

"Yeah," the girl said. "Or hunters."

_Hunters, hunters, hunters, hunters… _The word echoed in Ariel's head.

"Do explain," she said.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

**Name: **Ariel

**Surname: **Who needs a surname?

**Birthday: **January 27th: day I joined the hunt

**Mother's name: **Mary Elizabeth Gashow

**Father's name: **Still Darth Vadder

**Mother's contact: **Phillipe Pinel Psychiatric Hospital, Washington; ask for Mary E.

**Father's contact: **Who gives a crap?

**Siblings: **Thalia, Phoebe, Steph, Fiona, River, Kim, Kasumi, Lucy, Lana, Ann, Fallon, Chantale, Sabina, Elissa, etc.

**Home address: **Nomad. Tent number 4 with Kim, Thalia and Ann in it.

**Home phone number: **Phones attract monsters that then proceed to either eat all the supplies or try to kill my sisters. No thanks.

**Favourite colour: **Blue

**Favourite animal: **Dogs

**Favourite movie: **the Star Wars Trilogy [told'ja it was not subject to change]

**My main hobby is: **Archery and racing nymphs. Also, cooking is surprisingly fun.

**My motto is: **Pie is delicious, all else is regardless

**My biggest fear is: **Kronos. Ick. Also, Lord Apollo on an inspirational day- limericks, Haikus, whatever.

**My favourite sport is: **Archery

**My favourite thing to eat: ** Rabbit stew (which sounds savage but isn't). Also, cranberries, which Fallon can find, like, _anywhere. _

**Something I like is: **Aliens

**My best friends: **Gandalf the dog, Jeremy, Leo (shh, they're male), Thalia, Ann, River and Kim

**What I want to be when I grow up: **I WILL NEVER GROW UP! Take that Peter Pan! Girls do it better.

**What I like about school is: **The fact I don't go there

**Something the teacher should know about me is: **I like being a Hunter of Artemis.

* * *

><p><strong>Next: <strong>"I can't believe the choice is so easy to you. What about me, baba? What about me? Please don't make me."

"You are a beautiful young girl, and I love you very much," he said touching her cheek. "You know that. But hard decisions have to be made in life. That's how you know it's life."

"And it's always the boys who win!" She said crossing her arms angrily.


	14. Tendayi Mateba

**It's your favourite late-poster!**

**Well, I can't guarantee that I'm your favourite, but I am a late-poster. **

**I've been juggling a lot of... 'stuff' recently, so this took a back seat, as did most of the fanfiction world. **

**But I think you'll like this chapter since many people were asking for a chapter that was out of America since I started writing American chapters. But this is a huge risk because a) I could have messed everything about her culture up- in which case I apologise and I didn't mean to, and b) I am bad at math and there is much math in this.**

**Disclaimer: Me no own Thalia Grace!**

**Also this was inspired by a mediocre book I had to read in English class called African Journey. Its quality did not stop me from writing down the Shona-English dictionary in my notebook. **

* * *

><p><span>Tendayi Mateba<span>

Tendayi hated when the village pump broke.

It often meant that she missed going to school because she had to walk all the way to the next village, five kilometers, fill the buckets she carried with water, walk back home without losing too much. _Then _she would have to walk to the school building itself. By that time, Mr Tutani didn't let anyone into class.

The other village girls didn't seem to mind as much. Or maybe they just hid it like Tendayi did. They chatted on the way to and from and splashed each other at the pump. That, Tendayi did too because it was fun. After walking through the African landscape and under the hot sun getting a surprising splash of cool water on your back felt like a hug.

They talked about Mirai's little sister, Luba, who was sick.

"It's the measles," Mirai said in Shona. "Mama stayed up all night with her. She was spitting up black." Usually that was the death sentence for measles. Babies and infants at that age usually didn't survive long.

"You should get medication." Tendayi said. Mirai gave her a dark and spiteful look.

"Of course. Themba is going to the clinic right now for it."

Tendayi turned away. She didn't liked her best friend to look at her that way. Her little brother Simba had died of the measles just last year. The fourth baby her mother lost to something. Her family was just as poor as Mirai's. But because it was stressful when a baby got sick, Tendayi forgave Mirai. Besides, Mirai was forgiving her for being in her own daydream, sulking as she walked back.

During the walk back, Tendayi tried to count the steps. She never made it over a hundred before losing track or nearly stumbling on a rock and having to stop counting to catch the bucket of water balanced on her head.

The other girls chattered about how well the vegetable garden was doing, and the village gossip; Eniko Gazi had gotten himself immigration papers to England, and Idi Nyere's baby who'd been born last week and was very adorable.

Once she got home Tendayi delivered the water to her mother, who put it to boil over the fire. Her mother was smart; she didn't let her children drink water that might not be clean because that was how millions of children died in the country. She had a scarf tied around her head, a flowery skirt swivelling at her knees and baby Mandisa strapped to her back.

"It's too late, my love." She said. "School is out of the question."

"I know," Tendayi said. Hopefully they wouldn't do too much English work today because Tendayi wasn't good at that, and she didn't want to fall behind. She was good with numbers and sciences; like an engineer. That's what she wanted to be.

"Here, you can go watch your little sisters," Mama said. Tendayi had a total of six brothers and sisters. Kapomba was the oldest, and he had a soft face and long limbs. Then there was her. Her little brother Kuziva was five years old and he gave her the report of what had happened every time she came back from school, which was very cute even if Tendayi didn't care about most of what happened. And then she had three sisters; Jendayi who was a few months old, Tulani who was four years old and very clever and mobile, and Mandasi who was a year old.

"Where are they?" Tendayi asked.

"With the American," Mama said since she never remembered his name.

Tendayi kicked sand to go see him before he left, and she got there in time.

He was on a motorbike and the children were chasing him, laughing and giggling but never quite catching up to him. Tendayi knew that sometimes he slowed the bike down to give them a chance. He was a very nice boy with the name of Kyle Brown. He had fair skin and shaggy brown hair, with bright green eyes like nobody else Tendayi had ever seen. He was rich. His father was the manager of the nearby copper mine where most of the village men worked, and Kyle had flown from a place called Miami (she thought it was) for a visit. He'd been around for a week or so. His father had given him the bike so that he could ride to the village where he found company when he got too lonely, usually Kapomba, occasionally Themba, even the girls sometimes.

"Hey Tendayi!" He said when he spotted her. Tendayi smiled and waved at him. He pulled the bike next to her, engine roaring and dirt and dust flying into the air.

"What's up?" He asked.

"The sky." She said. She'd heard him reply to 'what's up' with that before. He laughed.

"How are you doing? You aren't at school?"

"No," Tendayi said, feeling her heart pinched. "I had to go get water instead."

"Oh." Kyle said. "Why didn't you just use the pump?"

Kyle was also sometimes stupid, and he asked stupid question.

"Because it's broken," Tendayi said. "The part might take weeks to arrive, days if we're lucky. We have to walk to the nearest village."

"Oh, well that's not so bad." Kyle said. "Where is it?"

"Five kilometers that way," Tendayi said, pointing.

His face fell and he took off his sunglasses. "Five kilometers? That's how many miles?"

"I don't know," Tendayi said. "Many."

"Ouch." Kyle said. Tendayi wished she had his motorbike. She could go get two buckets of water and medicine for the measles all in maybe two hours. That usually took half of the day. Tendayi had to wake up early to go get the water and come back for midday. With a motorbike, she might even get to school on time! Well, that depended on how fast the clinic was. And on how many people were at the water pump. And how fast she drove… Still, she envied this boy his motorcycle. He used it to distract children and come visit the village to find company. _She'd _use it to run the village chores.

* * *

><p>Everyone threw a handful of dirt over the tomb of baby Luba. Themba had come back with the medicine and they'd given it to her exactly like it was instructed on the packet –they even made Kapomba read it out loud since he was the one who understood English and read the best. But Luba just hadn't recovered.<p>

Tendayi picked up a handful of dirt and she sprayed it atop the grave. She held Kuziva by the hand and dragged him behind her after he did the same.

Kapomba was waiting for them too. He took Tendayi's hand.

"You know," Kyle said, "They say that only the good die young."

Kapomba shook his head. "She was too young to even _know _if she was bad or good."

* * *

><p>Baba was the one fixing the pump by reading the instruction booklet, since he was an engineer at the copper mine. That was what Tendayi wanted to be later.<p>

The rest of the village watched as he attached the spare part that'd gotten there. It'd taken an awful lot of money from everyone to buy the part, and if it broke now…

Finally Baba leaned back and put the screwdriver back in his pocket.

"Try it," he asked someone close bye. Someone pushed down on the long metal rod and down came a waterfall of clean and clear blue water.

The smallest children ran from their mothers' legs and doused themselves underneath it, giggling and splashing at each other as the villagers cheered. Someone soon started singing, and everyone joined in soon enough. That's what Tendayi liked about the village, the sound of people singing and kids splashing and giggling.

* * *

><p>Tendayi walked to the big tree under which Kyle sat.<p>

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Homework," he said. "My teachers didn't let me get away with a month of no work. Can you believe that? It's bull."

"School is good," Tendayi said.

"I guess," Kyle grumbled.

"What is this work?" She asked him again.

"English. I have to read a book."

"Really? What book?"

He looked at her crookedly. "Huckleberry Finn," he said.

"I have not read it."

"I wouldn't expect you to."

"I've read many books!" Tendayi said, even if she hadn't. She wasn't allowed to bring books home from school. Mr Tutani was strict on keeping all the books and all the old Canadian Geographic magazines in his class so that everybody got to read them and nobody stole them, which she supposed was fair. Still, she read a lot to try and get better English.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Kyle said. "This is just a bad book. You wouldn't have read it if you'd have had the choice."

"Why is it bad?" Tendayi said.

"It's boring."

"Why?"

"It just is."

"Mr Tutani told us that if something couldn't be scientifically proven it wasn't considered 'true'." Tendayi said.

"Well this books sucks, okay?" He said. Tendayi didn't think there were bad books. There were better books, but they all taught something or told a story. Stories were good and teaching was wonderful.

He got up and went to go read somewhere else, which hurt Tendayi.

Also here was this rich American boy, who was a thousand miles and an ocean away from his home, but still got to learn so that one day he could become an engineer, or whatever it was that he was going to be.

Tendayi was at her home, and she hadn't gone to school in a week.

* * *

><p>She sat at her wooden desk in the class, Mirai next to her. They whispered until Mr Tutani went to the front of the class, in front of the blackboard, the only thing on the classroom walls.<p>

"Hello class," he said.

"Hello Mr Tutani," everyone said.

"Today the older ones are going to study mathematics while the little ones read." He said.

Their class had all the children from the three closest village; around 30 of them from the age of six to seventeen. The teacher taught part of the class, then taught the other part, and then the other.

Tendayi was fourteen; one of the older kids. She smiled. She loved mathematics.

The younger kids got up and picked up books and old magazines and even textbooks from the back.

"I much rather read," Mirai whispered to her.

"Shh," Tendayi said. She didn't want to get in trouble and miss the class.

"Let's start with long division," he said. "And move on to other equations."

Mr Tutani wrote them on the chalkboard and the first person to raise her hand answered. It was nearly always Tendayi, which filled her with pride.

(1435÷20x3)5-(0,5)5= x

Tendayi raised her hand.

"Yes Tendayi?" He asked.

"1 076," she said.

"Plus four, multiplied by three?"

"3 240." She said. He was testing her, just her. Excitement bubbled in her stomach.

"Divided by eight?"

"405."

"Minus seventy-five?"

"330."

"Plus negative eight?" ¸

"322," Tendayi said. He nodded.

"Very good. Next equation for all of you…"

"How do you do that?" Mirai asked her.

Tendayi smiled. "It makes sense. It's all the same numbers all the time, even if there's a bunch of them together."

Mirai shook her head. "I still like reading better."

* * *

><p>"Tendayi," Mr Tutani called as she walked out of the class. She looked over her shoulder and walked to his desk.<p>

"Yes Sir?" She asked.

"You are very good with numbers," he said. "That will help you later."

She smiled. "Thank you Sir."

"You are further advanced than many people in this class. I am impressed. I would like you to read this and advance yourself further," he said opening the drawer of his desk and handing her a very small book.

"Sir, we're not allowed to bring books home," Tendayi said.

"This is not a school book. It belongs to me. I think you would enjoy the mathematics in it very much." He said. "Also," his eye twinkled, "It'll make your English better."

Tendayi felt her cheeks grow hot.

"Yes sir." She nodded.

* * *

><p>She read it all in the same night, but pretended not to have done so to keep it longer. She pretended it was homework so that she could read instead of helping out.<p>

It was all about something called the Fibonacci sequence, which talked about a sequence of numbers that went 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55…

You found the next number in the sequence by adding up the two numbers that came before it. 0+1=1, 1+1=2, 2+1=3…

And the cool thing about the Fibonacci sequence was that it kept going and going and going, and it was everywhere according to the book.

The book showed pictures of spirals, and how to have a perfectly mathematical spiral, the squares that a segment of the spiral had to pass on needed to be the same number of square centimeters as the next number of the Fibonacci sequence. It was hard to explain with words, but the Fibonacci sequence made sense.

Also, it was found in spirals all over nature as well. The book showed flowers that didn't grow in Africa and something called a pine cone. Front the top up, the number of tiny seeds in the middle of a flower, or brown pine-cone-segments made spirals that spun around the flower's heart or pinecone.

And how many spirals were there? A Fibonacci sequence number!

The numbers of petals on a flower also tended to be a Fibonacci sequence number, for example field daisies –these very pretty and delicate white flowers- usually had 34 petals, a columbine had 8, etc.

The number of spirals on a sunflower's center- counting both clockwise and counter clockwise- was a Fibonacci number; as well as the spirals being Fibonacci spirals. The same was true for the scales of a fruit called a pineapple.

A Fibonacci spiral made up the shape of a seashell, or a snail's shell.

Tendayi wished that she could hold one of those flowers and have great pictures to explain this to Baba, instead of just having to use her hands and words and the book to show it. In her head she saw it so well… It amazed her. How all these things were consistent with one another, how it was reliable, how it was mathematics. How it didn't change, how it was always the same, how it was everywhere…

* * *

><p>Kuziva ran up to her when she got back to the village, walking with Mirai and the other girls.<p>

"Ten-Ten!" He said.

"Hey champion," She said putting an arm around him.

"Kyle let me ride on his bike!"

"All by yourself?" Tendayi asked.

"Yeah!" He said, bubbling with excitement. "Well… no. He was on the bike too."

"That's very nice," Tendayi said. "Did you say thank you?"

"Mmm-hmm!" Kuziva said. "Well… no I forgot."

Tendayi laughed and squeezed his shoulders.

"How is everybody doing? Did you behave for Mama?"

"Yes," Kuziva said. "But…"

"But what? Did you annoy your sisters?"

"No. It's just that Jendayi is sick." He said.

Tendayi's heart stopped beating. "Oh. What does she have?"

"Nothing bad, Mama said." Kuziva reported. "And Mandasi slept all day and I helped Mama in the vegetable garden and Tulani cried because Baba had to leave extra early because there was a problem at the mine."

Her father worked at the copper mine nearby, the one Kyle's dad managed. He was really high up, one of the sous-managers.

"What kind of problem?" She asked Kuziva.

Before he answered he saw that Kapumba was back, lingering with Kyle who'd met up with them on his bike, so he ran off to go give him the daily report.

* * *

><p>Tendayi drew a Fibonacci spiral on the back of her geometry homework. They'd gotten specialised squared paper, and automatically Tendayi had set out to finish the work quickly enough so that she could draw spirals on the back, counting the squares like the book said.<p>

It was amazing. Right in front of her she had a rule that nature itself obeyed, a pattern it had worked out for itself long ago...

She kept her homework instead of tossing it out after it was over.

"Tendayi," Mr Tutani said. She turned around.

"Yes Sir?"

"If you want to see a real Fibonacci, go look at some fruit." He said.

* * *

><p>Kyle was panicking, which slightly scared Tendayi.<p>

"My dad's in that mine!" He said. "How do the _elevators _just _stop working?" _

"That happens sometimes," Tendayi said.

"Well what are the engineers for if everything falls apart?" Kyle said. "My dad's stuck underground in some mine, what if they don't get out?"

"Hey," Kapumba said. "My father is also in that mine. Even Kuziva is more level-headed than you are right now. Calm down. This happens all the time."

"Then why doesn't anybody fix it?" Kyle demanded.

Nobody said anything until Tendayi spoke up.

"Money. The company doesn't give your Baba or the engineers enough money to fix it."

* * *

><p>Finally the men returned to the village in the one pick-up truck that they used to come to work. Five in the back, three in the front; except that this time there was six men in the back because Kyle's dad was there.<p>

Kyle, for someone who'd been panicking, wasn't very ecstatic to see his dad safe. He said 'Dad!' when his father hugged him.

Tendayi hugged her father.

"We always make it out safe, Ten." He said kissing the top of her head. He took Mama who was holding Jendayi in her arms in his other arm. "Why do you always worry?"

* * *

><p>Every now and then, the pickup truck wasn't loaded with men, but with fruit and three women. They went to Harare, the big city, the capital, and sold the fruits in the market.<p>

Tendayi negotiated her place in the truck's bed. Mother looked solemn and nodded; she said that it was good for Tendayi to learn how to manage things at the market, which was weird because Tendayi didn't want to sell fruits in the market for a living, ever.

She rode all the way to the city in the back with Mirai and pails of vegetables. On the way she counted the number of leafs on a cabbage, and the spirals on an orange coliflower, and smiled when she found a Fibonacci sequence number.

At the market, she wandered through after another negotiation with Mama. She told her that it was Mr Tutani's special assignment for her.

She stopped at a stall that had _muroro_: sugar apples.

Tendayi quickly picked one up, started at the top, and counted the spirals it made clockwise and counter clockwise. The different berries were like the scales on one of those pinecones that the book showed.

Anyway, as she expected; Fibonacci was there.

"Buy it, or put that down!" The woman cried out in angry Shona.

She found more cabbage but soon had to go back to Mama or else she'd get worried.

"Mr Tutani didn't give us homework," Mirai whispered to her.

"He did to me. It's a mathematics thing, it's special." Tendayi whispered back, smiling.

* * *

><p>She was at the water pump bringing water to Mama. Jendayi was feverish. Mother promised that it was just something minor, which was good because they'd only lost Luba a week ago and losing too many children at once was bad luck according to the grandparents.<p>

The water pump was a dull grey colour and a bit taller than Kuziva. It had a long metal rod at the top, and when you pulled down on it, water would pour out of the nozzle. It was fenced it by wooden planks. Sitting on those planks was Tendayi's favourite place to do homework.

"You don't look very upset, Tendayi." One woman said.

"Upset? No, I'm not upset. Mama said that my sister would be fine," she replied.

"Not about your sister," she said.

"Oh dear, we've spoiled haven't we?"

"Spoiled what?" Tendayi demanded. Now she was starting to get scared. What was it? She couldn't think of anything, her brain had stopped working.

"Ask your Baba when he gets back from the mine." Another woman said after a while.

* * *

><p>She knew that she should have waited at least for a bit, but Tendayi just didn't. When Baba came out of the pick-up truck,<p>

"Baba," she said.

"Hello Ten," he said wrapping his arms around her.

She hugged him back and looked up at his face. His smile looked painful.

"Is there something wrong?" She asked innocently.

"No," he said. "Nothing wrong, it was just a long day."

"I don't believe it." Tendayi said suddenly. He frowned. "I heard the women talking at the pump. What's wrong?"

"Ah, Tendayi…" He said taking off his cap.

They sat down on the planks around the water pump.

"Do you know how the mine works? We sell the copper to companies. But copper isn't always worth the same thing, right?"

"Why not?"

"The economy," he said. Tendayi didn't understand. "Sometimes copper is worth more, sometimes less, and nowadays it's been worth a lot less. You understand that money is very hard now? Harder than usual? And that your brother is turning six very soon and that next year he will have to go to school…"

Tendayi's stomach went into a tight knot.

"No," she said.

"You know I love you," Baba said. "But he needs to learn to read and write and count and you already know all that…"

"Kapumba does too!" Tendayi screeched.

"Kapumba is going to school to become a teacher soon," Baba said. "It is a great opportunity with a city cooperative that Mr Tutani has found for him. We cannot let it pass, and that too costs a lot of money as well."

That was it, then. Tendayi wouldn't go to school because the family couldn't pay for everyone to go, and of course _she _was the one to get cut out.

"I can't believe the choice is so easy to you. What about me, baba? What about me? Please don't make me."

"You are a beautiful young girl, and I love you very much," he said touching her cheek. "You know that. But hard decisions have to be made in life. That's how you know it's life."

"And it's always the boys who win!" She said crossing her arms angrily. "I'm learning the best things in the world! I can't stop now, that's, that's… I don't want to live in a little village with a big family and no real job! I need to go to school! Even if I _am _a girl, and even if it is high school material!"

"Ten-"

"Don't call me that!" She huffed angrily.

"Watch your tone, young lady."

Tendayi didn't snap back and she started crying. Baba took her in his arms.

"I know. I'm very sorry. I wish I could send you all to school, but that's not how it works."

"I'm just as important as they are." Tendayi said softly.

"I know. To me you are." Baba said.

_But it sure doesn't look like it…_

* * *

><p>She felt like she was on death floor. It was her last week of school. She'd wanted to give the Fibonacci book back to Mr Tutani that way, but she didn't have the courage to even take the book out of her bag.<p>

Her whole life was a Fibonacci sequence. It was repetitive, it was permanent, it was always there. She was like a plant whose spirals couldn't break out of the sequence, she couldn't break out of the same exact thing her life had always been like. Poverty. No money. Not enough money. Never enough money. Pay checks becoming smaller. Empty pockets.

There was also a rule to her life, except it wasn't mathematic. It was just P+P=P. P being a variable for 'poor'. The last 'p' could also be replaced with 'n' for 'no'. 'No School'. 'No money'. 'No future'. 'No good job'. Why had she expected P+P to suddenly give R or C or E?

Rich.

Chance.

Engineer.

* * *

><p>Kyle was driving to the village, sending dust up into the air.<p>

He stopped aside Tendayi.

"Hey," he said. "Since you seemed so concerned about it, I finally finished Huckleberry Finn. I was right; it did suck."

Tendayi slapped him across the cheek.

"You should be _thankful _that no matter how much copper is worth, no matter where you are, and no matter what you do, you get to go to school." She snarled.

He held his cheek.

"Owe- Tendayi- what the hell was that?"

She just turned her heels and ran back to where Mama probably needed Mandasi and Tulani taken off her hands.

That's what she'd be doing from now on, right?

* * *

><p>She sat in the sand and watched Tulani and Mandasi playing with cars made out of Coca-Cola cans and wire. They were making jumps out of dirt, like the Monster Trucks Kyle talked about. Well, Tulani was. Mandasi was only a year old, and she didn't get it all. She pushed the cars where Tulani, a bossy three year old, told her to.<p>

This made babysitting them a very easy job. Tendayi just sat on the ground and watched.

Tendayi knew that her life was like a Fibonacci sequence in at least one way. It went on. After 34 and 55, there were more numbers. There were 89, 144, 228, 372, 600, 972, 1 597… The highest Tendayi had ever gotten was 3 525 628, but she could go further right now by adding 1 346 669 and getting 4 872 297.

Tendayi's life would go on. But it'd follow the P+P=P rule instead of her P+P=R dream rule.

The 2P=R rule went like this: finishing secondary education, moving to Harare to go to college, graduating, getting a job, living in her own home. And when that would happen she'd be rich enough to _choose _whether or not to get married and who to get married to. Then she'd have kids, and she'd be an engineer some more, and she'd be happy, and she'd send money back to her parents since she'd be R and they'd be old.

P+P=P rule went like this: no secondary education, barely any jobs available to her in Harare, living in the village, getting married eventually, her bride price would go to her parents and probably help them pay for other things, then she'd probably have kids, then she'd be a mother, then her kids would grow up and she'd have to struggle with money to send them to school, then she probably wouldn't be able to keep her little girl in school.

This rule was like the Fibonacci sequence. It never changed. It never broke. It was like a spiral- never ending. It was what her mother had lived, what her grandmother had lived…

* * *

><p>It was Tendayi's last day of school. She knew it; Kuziva started tomorrow.<p>

When Mr Tutani said 'class dismissed', she had to uncross her fingers. She'd wanted the school day to last longer. For him to talk more about some things.

She got up slowly, languishing. She wondered if she'd ever see the building again. Probably not; there wouldn't be any reason for her to leave the village and come, really. Kuziva could walk back with Kapumba or Mirai or maybe even Kyle if he stayed much longer.

She walked to Mr Tutani's desk and put the book on his desk.

"You are finished with it?" He asked. "I saw that you liked it a lot."

"No," Tendayi said. "But I'm not coming back."

Tutani nodded. "Money?"

Tendayi nodded. It wasn't as if she'd willingly stop going to school –like those boys who would then go tackle Harare and find jobs, and it wasn't like she had too many brothers and sisters to take care of. It was P.

"Keep it, then." Tutani said, nudging his head towards the book.

"What?" She asked. "But… it's yours."

"I will buy another copy if I ever need it," he said. "I think you would enjoy it more."

* * *

><p>Tendayi held baby Mandasi to her chest and felt her stomach twist and turn like a spiral. Damn spirals.<p>

"No- no death," Mama said shaking her hand. "No."

Grandfather, the village healer sighed and said in Shona; "She is too sick", and pointed to Jendayi.

"No, we will go to the clinic," Mama said, picking up Jendayi and tying fabric around her, which held Jendayi to her chest.

"You will never make it on time," Grandfather said.

"We… we will take the bus."

"The journey will kill her." Grandfather said.

"She needs the medicine!" Mama said.

Tendayi's eyes darted around, as Kapumba tried to talk to Grandfather.

That's when she heard the engine sound of a motorbike.

Kyle! He may be ungrateful and she may disagree with him; but he was her only chance now. He was Jendayi's only chance…

She ran out, holding on to Tulani.

"Kyle!" She said. He braked and looked at her disdainfully. He pulled off his sunglasses.

"Gonna slap me again? What'd I do now?"

"No, I need your help. I really, really need it. Jendayi is dying, we need medicine!" Tendayi said. "Please. Please, you have to help us."

"Ten," Kapomba was right behind her and she turned around. "What are you asking of him? He doesn't have any."

"He has the bike," Tendayi said. "Walking takes too long, and taking the bus is too slow because of all the stops and zigzagging it does, but the bike isn't."

"She's dying? I thought she had chicken pox." Kyle said. "Isn't she vaccinated?"

Tendayi frowned. "She what?"

"A vaccine. It's like… They… shots, you know?"

"No, she is not _shot._" Tendayi said. "Of course not." What kind of idea was this?

"I'll explain it to you later, we have to go now." Kapomba said. Tendayi nodded.

"Right away, roger that." Kyle said, tossing the spare helmet to… Kapomba.

And they were off.

* * *

><p>It'd been a few days since Kyle had shown up at the village. Maybe he was scared that the medicine he and Kapomba had succesfully brought back hadn't worked and that he'd stumble upon a village of grievers. But eventually he'd either gotten too lonely or too curious, and he'd come back.<p>

Mama hugged Kyle the second she saw him, which seemed to surprise him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have saved my youngest daughter." She said.

Kapomba translated.

"It wasn't anything," Kyle said. "I was just the driver."

Tendayi stayed quiet, bouncing Jendayi up and down on her knees. She'd recovered better than the clinic nurse had told Kapomba that she would. Nobody complained, Tendayi was just relieved. She hadn't wanted Jendayi to be like Simba last year. Maybe if Kyle had been there a year ago they would have saved him. Maybe they'd have saved Luba.

He was too R; he didn't need that bike, not really, but he had it. The village was too P. They needed that bike but they didn't have it.

_Yeah. You were just the driver._

Mama reacted to that and waved her hands and said 'no, no, no'.

Tendayi got up and handed Jendayi to Mama, who was more than happy to hold her baby. It still felt like they'd cheated death, and Tendayi was _so _relieved that the medicine had worked…

But she couldn't help but think that in ten years, when people would tell Jendayi about this, the heroes would be Kyle and Kapomba. And Tendayi would just be the sister who had been there, holding Mandasi and keeping Tulani away.

But she'd been an engineer for a little while in her life. She'd fixed something. She'd saved someone. She'd found a solution. Like the engineer that invented the water pump. He'd fixed the water problem, and he'd saved the lives of millions of children who would have died of dehydration and never have made it into adulthood. Or the guy who invented the vaccine for the measles, or the medicine for AIDS, or, or, or.

Even that didn't count since she hadn't been the one on the bike.

She'd never be on the bike.

* * *

><p>Today Eniko Gazi was going to the big city, getting on a plane, going to England, and never coming back.<p>

Tendayi lurked around the house's door. People darted to and from it of course, saying goodbye, giving whatever they could to help him, giving their blessings for his future.

Tendayi just lurked.

He looked up from his packing and at her.

"You want to come? I could squeeze you into the suitcase. You speak English, right?"

"All our school manuals are in English."

"And that book you're holding," he said.

Tendayi nodded. Squeezing into the suitcase looked like a great alternative.

"Why are you going to England?" Tendayi asked. "You are rich. You have been to school. You could be okay here."

"But I'm still living here, aren't I?" He said. "There are too many people, and not enough jobs. There is too much illness, and not enough doctors. Too much poverty and not enough copper in the world to help. England isn't like that. It's my way out. There will be jobs and a life for me there. People walk to Harare looking for miracles and come back empty-handed, but nobody comes back from England. You understand. You want to be out of here as well."

Tendayi nodded. She did. She needed somewhere like England. Or America, Italy, Switzerland, Canada… But she didn't have papers, and why would the British government give them to a small girl with no secondary education or job or home or money?

"I'm just breaking free. I'm just running away." Eniko said.

Tendayi nodded.

* * *

><p>She was sitting at the bus stop calling herself names in her head. Why had she left? Why had she decided that stealing money from Mama's purse and tucking her book in the waist band of her skirt and <em>running to Harare <em>was a good idea?

It was too late now. She was far away and the bus should come any time, although it was impossible to determine when. The bus stopped for every person who waved to get on. It could be here in ten minutes or three hours.

Then she heard them; the yelling in English.

"Look out!"

"HEADS!"

"Where is it?"

"I don't know seeing as its _invisible!" _Someone said.

She climbed to her feet and stood on her toes to try and see where it came from. She saw a hill, and over it flew something like a silver stick.

Tendayi was intrigued enough. She looked over her shoulder at the people waiting for the bus stop- a man holding chickens, hanging by their feet from a stick. A woman feeding a baby, two other small children tugging at her skirt. A little girl Tendayi's age tugging a sick, sick looking woman. Tendayi recognised the illness, Mama Gazi had died of it. It was shrinks; AIDS.

The bus wouldn't leave without her, she'd hear it coming and come back. Or else she'd just run and wave and hope that someone would tell the bus driver to stop if she did.

She wandered up to the hill where she'd seen the stick fly over.

A group of girls dressed in silver were running around something _big. _It made Tendayi's eyes sprawl. The beast looked like a leopard, except it was the size of three village houses together, and it had overlapping black crust as skin. It looked like armour.

The girls were skirting around it, shooting silver arrows, throwing javelins. But it was as if they were all blindfolded, they shot at the oddest places. The always missed. Tendayi felt like yelling at them that the beast was _right there _even if she was scared to the death. That thing could easily pluck one of them up and swallow a girl whole! It was as if they were blind to the thing Tendayi couldn't take her eyes off of.

_Blind, _she thought. _That's it! _The way they swung their weapons and shot randomly… They were obviously good at doing that- the problem was just their opponent.

"His left back paw is on rock!" Tendayi yelled.

A girl with spiky dark hair and black clothes- like a raven- looked over her shoulder, at Tendayi and shot her arrow. It whizzed an inch away from the leg. The beast roared at being discovered and the chill shot down Tendayi's back as fast as an arrow.

"M-More to the right!" Tendayi said.

The hunter reloaded her bow and three girls shot there this time. Many of them bounced off the beast's black armour skin, but the second a brown-haired girl's arrow anchored itself in the beast, the part where two plates weren't fully touching, the beast flickered out of sight for Tendayi and then it looked even more solid than it had before.

If the hunters were scared of what they know saw, they didn't show it. They were fearless. It was as if they saw those monsters as often as Tendayi saw Kyle.

"Slay it before it returns to its invisibility!" The Raven Girl yelled to her friends.

Tendayi's breath froze inside her chest as she watched these girls jump and cling onto the beast, sticking knives in the chinks of its armour, aiming their arrows for eyes or the inside of its mouth with their arrows. Somehow that made Tendayi's legs shake more than before.

Finally it exploded into sand.

Raven came to see Tendayi after saying something to the girl.

"Do you speak English?" She asked.

Tendayi nodded.

"Then thank you," she said. "For telling us where to shoot. That must have… confused you. It confused us all the first time. The girls and I were just considering if you wanted to come back to our camp with us, so that we can explain. We probably have some hot chocolate- no, wait, that's for cold places, most definitely not Zimbabwe…"

"You're from America aren't you?" Tendayi asked.

"Yeah. Well, I'm from the United States. But some girls are from France, Greece, Italy, Denmark, whatever. I'm Thalia."

"Tendayi," she said. She shook Thalia's hand. Must be American.

"Nice. So what do you say? I can make sure you're home before dark- my patron could make sure of it."

"Patron?"

"Yeah. It's a long story, part of the explanations." Thalia said.

_Take them; it might be the last time you get some kind of teaching._

"Alright," Tendayi said.

Which ended up not being the only offer that Tendayi took that day.

* * *

><p><strong>Since my Fibonacci explanations are probably pitiful, go on YouTube, write 'Vihart Fibonacci' and watch. Be. Amazed.<strong>

**Also I don't have next chapter writen yet, but I know who the girl is, and I'm very interested in her, so that's good :D**


	15. Lucia Addario

**...**

**I'm _so_ late. I'm sorry. This took forever to write. To give you a picture: it's 81 pages long on Microsoft Word... This is like putting Kim Ugliano adn Stephanie Garcia's two chapters together, basically. I scare me. So make sure you have lots of time and patience when you read this one. **

**I spent a week in the Wilderness last week and about 5 new hunters popped into my head. So watch out for them.**

**I'm kind of worried about this one. I was prouder of it as I wrote it, but 81 pages of a hunter are not going to be wasted, so I put it up for you all to see, read, judge and hopefully enjoy. So please do!**

**Disclaimer: Me no own the hunters and Artemis. Also I can't relate to this hunter much, so hopefully I still wrote it well enough.**

* * *

><p><span>Lucia Addario <span>

_2009_

Lucia felt the pull on the harness stop, and so she froze in her tracks. She heard the faint panting sound of Artemis.

She waited. She heard other people behind her, a group of teenagers laughing and joking around. They were also eating something greasy and salty smelling, like McDonald's French fries. She also felt the pressure on her arm _again. _

"Mom, let go." Lucia said. "I've got Artemis."

"Oh, sorry sweetheart."

The pressure left.

The sound like 'di-doo; di-doo; di-doo' like some bird call sounded. That meant that the light was green.

"Forwards," Lucia said. She followed her dog.

Mom grazed Lucia's arms a couple of times, and she could tell that her fingers were itching to take Lucia's and guide her.

"Mom, stop," she said again. I'm fine."

Her feet hit the sidewalk and she nearly tripped.

"See?" Mom said.

"I'm still getting used to her," Lucia said. Artemis turned to stay on the sidewalk and Lucia's feet pointed in another direction to follow. "See? She's a good girl."

"Well of course I know that, these dogs are always trained well…"

"Good, stop worrying." Lucia said to close the case.

_Di-doo. Di-doo. Di-doo._

"Forwards," Lucia said. Artemis went automatically, which meant that no cars were coming.

She'd gotten Artemis two weeks ago. Of course, she'd known Artemis for about two months before that.

See; when a guide dog gets trained, it spent a long, long time learning how to stop at crossroads or to sit and go forwards and be calm all the time. But the last part was just getting the new owner used to having a dog. Lucia had gone to the Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind (CGDB) Center in Manotick which, luckily for her, was only sixteen miles south of Ottawa.

There had been dorms there for her to stay in during the summer. Mom and Dad had rented a cottage nearby (which had Mom terrified and starring at the phone three quarters of the time, of course), while Lucia spent the summer meeting guide dogs until they paired her up with Artemis.

She was a Labrador retriever, with soft fur and a tongue that darted in and out of her mouth to lick your nose so quickly, you weren't sure if it'd happened; like a navy SEAL. She was energetic when the harness was off, and she liked to play fetch more than most men loved their wives. Lucia had immediately fell in love with her, and according to the handlers so had Artemis.

It'd been hard at first. Starting to trust a dog to not get smashed as she crossed the street, went upstairs, and so forth. Lucia kept expecting Artemis to run off after a squirrel or another dog, and she never held the harness tight enough at first.

But eventually they worked it out, and they could read each other's movements. Now _Mom _was the one who was really freaking out about the 'but… it's a dog…' idea.

"She's very good," Mom said softly.

"I told you, Dad told you, the instructors told you." Lucia sighed.

"I know, I know. You're just my sweetheart and I worry."

_You wouldn't worry half as much if I weren't blind, _Lucia thought.

Lucia turned left after telling Artemis to do so, and Lucia felt her stop thanks to the harness before they actually did. That meant that there were stairs.

"Go up," Lucia said. She heard the sound of Artemis' paws click-clacking over the stone steps of Ruya's house.

Artemis stopped again, which was the door.

Lucia reached out and her fingers soon found the doorbell, which she rung.

_Ding-dong, ding-dong. Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-dong. _

She heard footsteps and eventually the door opened.

"Hello!" Lucia recognised Mrs. Amjad's voice.

"Hi," Lucia said.

"And who's this?" Mrs. Amjad said.

"Artemis," Lucia said imagining that she was talking about the dog. "She's my new guide dog."

"Wow, she's beautiful," Mrs. Amjad complimented. "Come in, come in. The girls are downstairs already."

"Don't call them up, I can make my way," Lucia promised. "Forwards," she told Artemis.

"Hey, where's my kiss?" Mom said.

"Stop," Lucia said. She turned around, leaned towards Mom's general direction. Mom took her by the shoulders and steered her towards her cheek. Lucia gave her a kiss.

"You've got my number?"

"Yes mom."

"And you have all of Artemis' stuff?"

"Yes, I do." Lucia said.

"Even poop bags?"

"Mom, I'm not a baby."

"Sorry, sorry." Mom said, backing off. "It's just new."

"Not to me, Mom." Lucia said. "I've had her all summer technically."

"Alright. I'll leave then."

Lucia knew her way around Ruya's house, but even so she knew that Mrs. Amjad was watching her. She held one hand against the wall and when it stopped she told Artemis to go right. The dog didn't budge.

"Go down," Lucia said. Artemis started going down the stairs.

She kept a hand on the railing until she got to the bottom.

"Hey guys," she said.

"Luce!" She heard.

Someone took her arm.

"It's Ru," she said. Lucia put down Artemis' harness and felt around until she could hug Ruya.

"Hey," Lucia said. "Sorry I'm late. Mom took some convincing to let me bring Artemis."

"The movie's only ten minutes in, no problem."

"Okay, my turn to hug." Theia declared. Lucia unwrapped her arms from Ruya and hugged her other friend.

"Can I pet your dog?" Theia said.

"Sure, let me just take the harness off," Lucia said, kneeling down and picking it up from where she estimated Artemis to be. She furrowed with the clip.

"You okay?" Ruya asked.

"I'm good," she replied. Finally she unclipped the harness.

"It's just that she's really used to not being pet or distracted when she's wearing it," Lucia said.

"Don't worry, it's not a problem. Hey you, you're such a pretty girl…" Theia baby-talked.

"Let's go sit down and watch," Ruya said. "I like your top."

"Thanks," Lucia said. "Mom keeps saying that burgundy's a good colour on me."

Of course; she had no idea if that was true or not.

"You should wear that on the first day of school."

"Okay, I will." Lucia said, reaching out for someone's elbow.

Ruya and Theia had been Lucia's friend since kindergarten. They'd been the ones to help her put on her winter clothes before recess in elementary school, they'd told her what was going on during shows if she missed a you-had-to-see-it joke, and they'd guided her across places like stairs with no rails (dumbest idea of life), school yards and shopping malls- which Lucia just couldn't get around to memorising because they kept changing, and the people were everywhere, and stairs closed down at random times.

The awesome thing was that it didn't make Lucia feel needy or dependant. They gave her pointers, like offering an elbow or telling her which way a chair was facing, but that was it.

They were the only reason that Lucia was going to return to a normal high school this year. She'd spent seventh, eighth and ninth grade at Harvey's School for the Blind and Visually Impaired.

Well, them and Artemis.

They sat down in front of the TV, on couches and memory foam and quilts that Ruya had dragged down to her basement. Lucia put down her bag on the couch and sat down.

"We already opened chips," Ruya said. "Salt and vinegar's on your left at ten o'clock, BBQ's with me. We didn't open ketchup because you weren't there and we could only pick two."

"Aww, man." Lucia said, leaning back against a small mountain of pillows.

Something licked her hand and Artemis came to settle down and snuggle at Lucia's right. The whole delicate balance of pillows and mattresses shifted.

"I'm sitting down next to Artemis," Theia said. "She's such a good dog…"

Theia and Ruya had met Artemis the day after she'd come home.

Lucia slid her hands up Artemis' furry body and scratched her on both sides of the head.

"Yes she is," Lucia said.

"Are you done praising the dog as if she was actually the Greek goddess?" Ruya said.

"Yes, Ma'am," Lucia said.

The movie started again. Lucia _loved _listening to movies. She'd gotten good at imagining what was happening on the screen that didn't include sound. Sometimes movies lost humour on her, but she hated being described everything.

Plus the colour commentating was amazing on behalf of the three of them. Like, they were having a Harry Potter marathon, and they'd all basically memorised the books since Theia had gone on the rampage of it in second grade.

They had to go back upstairs when Mrs. Amjad said that supper was ready, so Theia paused the movie since she was the first one to find the remote. Lucia harnessed Artemis and they went upstairs.

"What are we eating?" Theia asked.

"It doesn't matter, it's always delicious here." Lucia said.

"You're too kind, Lucia." Mrs. Amjad said. She loved the way Ruya's mom said her name, her Arabic accent made it sound so pretty.

"Okay, so you've got tabouleh at twelve o'clock…" Ruya said. She went on to describing everything on the plate and where it was, and Lucia just wanted Ruya to shut up so she could dig in to the delicious sounding food.

She overly stuffed herself, as if she'd just gone to a Chinese buffet, but still ate a baklava. Ruya's parents owned a shawarma shop, so they were big on Lebanese cuisine and how _yummy _it was.

"Theia, you better not be feeding your food to my dog without me knowing." Lucia said after Theia made a compliment about how still Artemis was, just lying under the table. People laughed.

"But she is right," Mrs. Amjad said. "She's very obedient."

"That's why they picked her to train. Hmm, girl?" Lucia asked, scratching the top of Artemis' head. She missed, but quickly adjusted her hand. "Only a few dogs actually get trained after they come back from being raised in the volunteer's homes."

They talked some more about how school was going to start and Ruya's little brothers started screaming that school was never going to start.

They went back down and watched the third movie.

Then they changed into their pyjamas before the fourth movie, and they were all silent because this was their favourite movie yet, although neither of them could wait for the Deathly Hallows movie to come out.

"This is when you _know _that Ron and Hermione are going to end up together," Theia said. "See the look he's giving her?"

"Totally," Ruya nodded. "Now shut up, she's about to yell at him that he ruined everything. Check her face, she's so sad."

"Well, he did just insult her ability to get a decent date." Lucia said. "_I'd _be insulted if that wasn't a totally legitimate thing to say."

That got them chatting again until the final task, during which they shut up.

"Shame he dies," Theia said. "He's so pretty."

"Go away," Ruya huffed.

Artemis snuggled up with Lucia more.

"You are one demanding and boiling pit of affection, girl." Lucia said putting her arms around Artemis as the dog lied down on her legs.

After the fourth movie ended Ruya made a toast.

"To a new school year. Let us hope that French immersion does not kill us!"

"Cheers," Theia said as they knocked their cans of soda together.

* * *

><p>"You wore the top!" Ruya said.<p>

Lucia turned her head to face the sound of her voice. Theia was probably with her since they lived on the same street and took the same bus.

Mom was holding her elbow again. Lucia just let her, she was more nervous for the first day of school than Lucia was.

Ruya took her arm. Lucia could tell it was her because Theia had insanely soft skin since she used lotion after each shower, and put some more on each night. Ruya didn't bother.

"Hi," Lucia said, stretching out her arms and hugging Theia. She got a squeeze back.

"My turn," Ruya declared.

"Permission to pet your dog?" Theia asked.

"Yes," Lucia said. "Mom, I'm okay now. You can go."

"Alright, sweetheart," Mom said. "You're going to be okay with the lock?"

Lucia sighed. "I'm not five years old. I'm going to be okay."

"And remember that you have a right to-"

"Have Artemis with me at all times, and ask for a computer," Lucia nodded. "I know Mom, I know. We had the tour five million times and the principal talked to us every time _and_ on the phone." She didn't want to be rude to her bundle-of-nerves mother, but she added; "You can go now. I've got Theia and Ruya. And Artemis."

"Of course," Mom said. Lucia got a kiss on her forehead. "Have fun, sweetheart."

"She's gone," Ruya said after a second. "Come on; let's see whose class we're all in."

"I hope we're all in the same." Lucia said.

"Honey, you visibly do not comprehend how Downy Public High school works." Ruya muttered.

Lucia ignored this on the grounds that it was her God given right to be hopeful, and said; "Follow Theia, Artemis."

That was something that Lucia and the dog trainers at the CGDB center had worked on. Just an extra trick that Artemis had been surprisingly quick to learn. Lucia suspected that it had to do with her love of fetching.

Artemis got moving and Lucia followed until she stopped, asking for permission to go up a flight of stairs that led to the school's office area.

"There's a huge banner that's all 'Welcome to another exciting year!' with pictures of tigers on it." Theia said.

Ruya added, "If you go to the right, there's a library, to the right you can go to either the 7-8 pavilion area which is forbidden to us tenth graders, or to the cafeteria. Straight up there's the office which has a door, and then there's a door to the actual school part of it all."

"So where are we going?"

"Cafeteria. Grades ten, eleven and twelve get to have our classes read to us from there. Minor niners are given a tour first so they can stop peeing themselves with nerves, and the seven to eight graders are in their own part of the school." Theia said.

"There's a door here, by the way." Ruya said. Lucia was thankful. Thankfully Ruya and Theia had gotten in the habit of describing to her what the heck was going on, and had long ago found the balance between 'helpful' and 'annoying'.

Lucia passed through and Artemis stopped at the top of what Lucia assumed was _more stairs. _

"Go down," Lucia said.

They sat down on an available cafeteria table. Lucia lowered herself very, very slowly. There wasn't even a back or an arm to guide herself with. She just swung her legs in. She felt Artemis' soft fur against the ankles.

"Are a lot of people looking at Arty?" Lucia asked quietly.

"I can't hear you, lean it? I'm in front of you."

Lucia leaned forwards and repeated her question.

"Yes," Theia said. "I mean, it's not every day that people bring their dogs to school."

"But between the harness and the sunglasses, I think they've figured out that Artemis is not a pet."

"Are a lot of people looking?" Lucia asked again.

"Yeah," Ruya said. "But don't worry about it, Luce, it's just because you're new."

She nodded and leaned back, nearly falling off.

Theia caught her arm and laughed. "You'll have to get used to that. At lunch we could take a table on the side that actually uses chairs, but usually the twelfth graders have total monopoly on them."

There was the sound of a microphone clearing up.

"Attention, attention." Someone said. "Thank you. Welcome to your first day of school, students! My name is Jason Leduc; I'm your principal for the year."

There was a back of the room comment that Lucia didn't catch but that made a wave of chuckles ripple through the room.

Mr Leduc ignored this.

"Before your teachers call you to the stage class by class, let me remind you of some rules."

He went on talking about the pyramid of consequences for not doing homework, detention attendance, how the dress code insisted that no shorts or skirts could be less than one full hand's sixe above your knee, how straps on shirts needed to be three fingers wide and how boys were not to wear their pants at their knees.

"They do that?" Lucia whispered.

"Half of them do," Theia whispered back. "And yes; we do see their boxers. It's disgusting. At least that's one problem you won't have."

Lucia smiled, but she thought of all the problems she _would _have. She wasn't particularly worried this morning, but after having to go by two flights of stairs in one morning her confidence was shortly wavering. This school was built _weird. _

Finally they started naming homeroom classes. Lucia knew who her homeroom teacher was, someone called Mr Bellandini. She hadn't met him over the summer since she'd been busy getting her guide dog, but she'd gotten her schedule in advance so that her mom could record it on Lucia's iPod as a voice memo.

Since they were going in alphabetical order, Mr Bellandini's class was named right after Mrs. Abraham's, and Lucia was the first to be named. The teacher said right after; "Ruya Amjad, come on up".

Lucia smiled and Ruya squeezed her hand.

"Come on, then." Ruya said softly.

"Let's go." Lucia told Artemis as she got up. "Forwards."

Lucia heard whispers as she passed cafeteria tables, and she suddenly felt really self-conscience. People always knew that she was blind. It was important for Lucia to make that clear anyways (like, if she was accidentally crossing a street when the light was red she still had the right to cross as long as she had either a white cane or a guide dog with her).

But a dog was a lot more of a statement than the cane she'd used for her whole life.

Artemis stopped and Lucia was ready to bet that it was stairs.

"Up," Lucia said. Artemis climbed the stairs until Ruya touched her elbow to steady her and Lucia said 'stop'.

More names were called after Mr Bellandini whistled for attention. Lucia felt slightly uncomfortable. She'd gone to a small elementary school where everyone had known her, and at St Harvey's everybody had been legally blind. There were _a lot _of people at this school and most of them were looking at her right then and at her dog and at her sunglasses. Lucia was wondering if she was looking somewhere awkward, like someone's butt or midair.

"Ruya, where am I looking?"

"Here, turn your head towards my voice, that's it. That looks fine." Ruya said. "But nobody cares, Luce."

"I do," she whispered back.

They went through the letter 'M' without naming 'Theia Martin', so there went that idea.

"Follow me, then. We're in class number 175." Mr Bellandini said.

Lucia heard the flow of people go one way.

"Right," Lucia told Artemis. She got moving and that was how they followed most of the class to the classroom. Ruya told her that they got to the right classroom.

Ruya helped her get to a single seat, and sit down.

"All the school's chairs are exactly like this, you'll have no problem once you get used to it. I'm sitting right behind you."

"Got it," Lucia nodded.

Artemis sat down on her foot. She always did that, but it didn't hurt so Lucia wasn't going to train her out of it.

The door closed.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems that the province of Ontario finds you brilliant enough to pass ninth grade."

"WOO!" Someone in the back said. People laughed.

"Welcome to double digits, and I'm afraid to tell you that it could be a different story this year. Especially for you."

Lucia had a feeling that he was pointing at the guy who'd talked earlier, and she cracked a grin.

"I'm just going to take attendance- Lucia Addario?"

"Present," she said.

"Ruya Amjad."

"Here."

"Samson Bennett."

"Here," someone said.

She tried to listen to the voices of the next people who talked. There was a Brigitt, Gail, Trevor, Jordan, Mason (who appeared to be the guy who'd talked earlier), Nicholas, Quinn, Cole, Valentine, Olivia, Katherine…

"And Hassan Zackaria?"

"Here," the last student said.

"Excellent," he said. "Well, welcome. My name's Alan Bellandini; and I will be your history teacher this year. So we could talk about the rules in a class, like 'okay kids, raise your hands before talking' or 'do your homework' or 'don't pick your nose'- which I think will be a problem for you…" He was pointing at someone, assumedly not her though. People laughed. "Both the talking, the homework and the nose. But I'm going talk about my class.

Rule number one, anybody who snickers at anything anybody says unless it is reasonably stupid owes me a Snicker Bar. If it's a loud snicker, you owe me a King Size. If you argue with me you owe me two, and I give you detention.

Rule two, if you're going to whine, don't. If you do so anyways, you owe me a nice bottle of wine. I like red better than white."

Lucia laughed with the others.

"Three, we're stuck together for a whole semester, possibly two. And you are all stuck together in this class, first period, every weekday. This means that we will see each other at our worst since we'll all have just rolled of the bed, and we will frequently want to strangle each other since school starts at an ungodly hour.

So I am going to ask you to respect each other. This means that most things kindergarteners aren't allowed to do apply to you; the exception being that you're not allowed to nap. Please listen to each other, try to understand each other, try not to phenomenally annoy each other…"

Lucia braced for it.

"And also, we have a dog in this class. This might be very exciting to those who are mentally seven years old in the room, but I was wondering if Lucia, you might want to explain who your dog is." Mr Bellandini said.

Lucia sunk her teeth in her lip and thought for a second. _What the heck do you have to lose? Make an impression on them and you won't just be the loser blind kid._

"Okay," she said. "Up," this time for Artemis' attention. "Forwards."

Artemis stopped when she got to the wall and Lucia turned around to face the class (or at least she hoped so, because windows didn't have ears).

"So… Umm… My name's Lucia, and… I just transferred this year, and I'm legally blind. But not in the way that I have bad vision I just have no vision whatsoever." She said.

"Alright," Mr Bellandini said. She wished she knew where he was. "And your dog…"

"Her name's Artemis," Lucia blabbed. _Crud. _Everyone had told her not to tell everyone what her dog was named, so that people didn't make it a habit to call out to her when she was working. Oh well. Artemis was trained to ignore anybody but Lucia when it came to orders and being called.

"I got her this summer, but she's not a pet. They call her a working dog, or service dog. Whenever she's wearing the harness it's because I really need her to be around and to help me not fall down a flight of stairs or run into walls or cross a street. So that means that I'd appreciate if you don't stop to pet her every time you see her because it distracts her, and I need to get to class too."

"So there's one rule to follow," Mr Bellandini said. "Don't touch Lucia's dog."

"Well… you can. Just when the harness is off, or if you ask."

"I see. Anything else?"

"Umm…" Lucia thought for a second. "About Artemis? I'm pretty strict with her about feeding her because if she starts seeing food as praise she'll just do her job for food instead of doing it because it's… well, her job. And that's not a good thing. Also she's not aggressive, so don't be scared of her; she's gentler than a monk."

People laughed, which encouraged Lucia.

"Also, I can read and write like anybody else, I just have to have my Braille books. I can do pretty much anything; I just can't see where I'm going or what I'm doing. So don't pity-case me."

"Alright then," Mr Bellandini said strongly. "Does anybody have any questions? And don't raise your hand, she can't see it. Valentine?"

"Why are you blind?" A girl asked.

"Why can you see?" Someone replied.

"Hassan, that's enough." Mr Bellandini said. "Would you like to share, Lucia?"

_Like; no. Will; okay. _"An accident when I was a baby."

She answered a few more stupid questions, like 'can I pet your dog?' (No. Lucia figured that Artemis was already pushed enough, being in such a weird and new place with a lot of other people and sound), and some legitimate ones.

Then she sat down and everyone got a review of the semester's outline and what they were going to study and how he graded stuff and what book they had to go get from the library and so forth. They did a revision of last year's stuff, and the bell rung eventually.

Lucia got up slowly, after everyone else.

"I have art next, you?" Ruya said.

"I have math," Lucia said disappointed.

"Oh. Do you need directions?"

"No, I'm good." Lucia said. "They're on my iPod. All recorded and so forth."

"That's neat," Ruya said. "I'll catch you later, then. Theia or I will pick you up at your locker for the cafeteria, okay?"

"Okay," Lucia said. "Bye, love you."

"Love you too."

"Out," Lucia said, giving Artemis instructions.

"Excuse me?" Someone asked. There was a tap on her shoulder that startled her.

"Oh, sorry," someone said. It was a guy. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I just… I'm Samson Benet, and I heard you say that you had math next. So do I, with Mr Bell, right? So if you needed help getting there…"

"Oh," Lucia said. "Umm… Okay. I'm Lucia."

"I know," he said. "So how do… I..?"

"Just tell me where to turn, Artemis will lead."

"Okay then," he said. "Just go straight."

It was really quiet for a second. Lucia could hear him breathing and walking next to her, so she knew that she was there. He smelled like Axe deodorant, which Lucia usually didn't like, but it was weak, like he didn't bathe in it. It actually smelled good that way.

"So," he said. "It must suck to have to answer stupid people's questions like you did earlier."

"Sort of," Lucia admitted. "Mr Bellandini kind-of put me on the spot. But I rather say it once to everyone than once to each person in class, you know? Or to have wild rumours going around about why I'm blind in the likes of 'oh yeah, her parents signed her up for a Russian science experiment on mutation involving frogs and watermelon'."

Samson laughed.

"People aren't _that _stupid."

"You'd be surprised," Lucia said. "I nearly died of shame in sixth grade when that went around. Also I'm not used to being around a whole lot of people who think it's awkward that I'm blind."

"I don't think it's awkward," Samson said. "Turn right, the door is propped open."

Lucia transferred each of his directions to Artemis.

"I think it's a cool excuse to bring your dog to school."

Lucia smiled, "You have a dog?"

"I have two. Locco and Steve. They're about this high-" he was probably doing something with his hands, "I mean, as high halfway up to your knees, completely white. They're super fluffy and annoying, and the stupidest things on the planet, I swear."

Lucia laughed. "Dogs are really smart."

"No, _your _dog is really smart –turn left-, but my dogs were dropped at birth or something. If you call them they won't come, but the second you yell 'food' they're charging at you like a Spartan army."

Lucia laughed and nearly missed Artemis' cue to stop.

"Umm, why did she?"

"Stairs," Lucia guessed.

"Oh. She stops at those?"

"Yeah." Lucia figured that she was holding up a line. "It's alright girl, go down."

They were the kind of staircase that had a slight spiral and that she hated. Oh well. She'd get used to them. Her old school had been built for blind people to function perfectly in without any particular effort.

Artemis stopped at the door and as Lucia fumbled for a doorknob, Samson said that he'd get it and so he did. Artemis led her through and Lucia waited for him. She heard people say 'thank you, thanks,' and guessed that he got stuck holding the door open for everyone.

"Your dog's so cute!" Someone said. Lucia jumped. "Can I pet her?"

"No," Lucia said. "Sorry." She added.

"Why not?"

"Because it's a guide dog and she's busy helping the blind," Samson's voice said. "Leave her alone, Glory." He got back to Lucia. "Okay, it should be the third class on the right. Unless I just got us both lost."

"In which case I am blaming you for detention," Lucia said. "Go," she told Artemis.

They walked in through a doorframe, and presumably in the math class.

"Hey, Lucia?" Samson asked.

"Yeah?"

"None of my friends are in this class because they're all math losers in the bottom levels, so do you want to sit next to me?"

"Sure," Lucia said, relieved. She didn't know anybody in this building but Ruya and Theia and the teachers that she'd already met, but Samson seemed cool.

Artemis helped her find her seat and lied down at her feet.

The morning's two other classes went through like a breeze. Nobody asked her to talk about Artemis or anything, which was probably because it wasn't homeroom. Her teachers were a bit clingier than Mr Bellandini, but that was okay. Except for how at the end of each class they got someone to bring her to her next class, which was more embarrassing than getting Samson's help for some reason.

Speaking of Samson; he was hilarious. He whispered comments to her during the whole class, and she had to try really hard not to laugh.

Lunch was by far the easiest because Ruya and Theia were there. She ate with her two best friends ever and walked Artemis outside, picked up after her, and then got to walk around the schoolyard chatting about classes. This was the part about going to a normal High School that had excited Lucia the most; being back with Ruya and Theia.

Back to teachers asking for volunteers; she met Liam who brought her to French after lunch, and Kathleen who brought her to gym.

Gym class got a bit more complicated.

The teacher, Madame Portelance, (since Lucia was in French immersion; the idea was that half of her day was taught in French, half in English) had them stretch and then sit in the grass, at which point she went through all the activities that they would do this year.

They started with touch football and soccer, self-defence sports when it started to get too cold or snowy to go outside (Lucia got excited because judo was one of those), then inside games with simple organisation, basketball, followed by physical conditioning and spinning.

"Now girls, this isn't what the other students are doing in gym class," Madame Portelance said. "But we're the only class who has had to modify the curriculum to accommodate someone who is legally blind."

She went on about helping each other and so forth.

Then they had to do laps, and Madame Portelance called a girl named Abby over.

"Lucia, Abby. Abby, Lucia. Abby is the fastest runner in our grade, and she's accepted to be your tether buddy," Madame Portelance told Lucia.

Basically, the two girls were tied by the wrist to one another and they'd run, but Abby was in charge of yanking Lucia away from incoming metal poles or people. Since gym class had given Mom anxiety attacks, there had been a lot of meetings with Madame Portelance over the summer and at the end of last year. Lucia had offered to run with Artemis, but Mom had shot that down because she thought that running would be deconcentrating for the dog. Eventually this'd been agreed on.

So off they went.

"I'm Abby Shaw," she said. Her voice was so sweet it was nearly annoying.

"Lucia Addario," Lucia replied. She _loved _running. It was the one sport that she could always do, no matter what. She was good at it too, after all the practise she'd had. Usually she had a guiding rope tied, or she had a whole gym to herself where she didn't risk bumping into people. The tether to someone was new.

"You have math class with my sister, Quinn," she said.

"Oh yeah," Lucia said recognising the name. "So you're twins?"

"No, she got bumped up a grade," Abby said.

There wasn't anything else to talk about, and Abby had probably retreated to her zone if she really was such a good runner. Maybe Lucia could try out for track and field this year.

"Hey Luce," someone said.

She looked left and right to see where the sound came from.

"Over here," the person said. It was a guy, but she was in an all-girls gym class. How..? "I mean, to your right."

"Don't be offended, but who are you?" Lucia asked.

"Samson," he said.

"Oh, hi. What are you doing here, exactly?"

"The guys came out a few minutes ago. We're taking over the track from you girls. Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

"They go play softball across the street," Abby said, sounding bored. "Or baseball. Whatever."

"Soccer," Samson said. "What did you do with Artemis, Luce?"

"She's hanging out with Mr Bellandini. He has a free period, and he offered this up. I had to use a cane to get to the field," Lucia said.

"Lucky dog," Samson said sarcastically. "Maybe she'll eat all of our homework."

Lucia laughed again. "I doubt it. Strongly."

The class then proceeded to touch football, which Lucia wasn't going to try.

Lucia tackled the course on her own for a little while, waiting for the next girl to come help her. She had to watch out for when the gravel turned to grass under her feet so she'd know to get off the course on time. She was pretty good at it, and she stuck near the edge because most people ran in the middle. Also Samson was by her side the whole time, which was unexpected, but nice.

When _he _left, people started taking turns running with her. Madame Portelance was keeping an eye on her too, telling Lucia to keep going that she was doing great. She took breaks and just walked. She took off her sunglasses to wipe the sweat off of her face and ran again.

One of the things she hated about being blind was how people thought that she couldn't do sports. But she could, actually. And she did it well. Running without a tether or Artemis was hard and it kind-of crept her out, but she could do it. It gave her great endurance for swimming and riding on a stationary bike. And since last year she'd been practising judo after her dad had been told that blind people could excel at it (needless to say that Mom was never the one driving her to practises or tournaments, but still).

Finally someone came to get her. She was handed her cane and that was that.

She changed, hoping her shirt wasn't inside out. Usually she had Theia for that. Anyways, she got permission from Madame Portelance to go retrieve Artemis before the hallways got flooded with people.

She read the Braille numbers on the signs hanging on the left of each door, looked for landmarks like soda machines or elevator doors, and used a fair bit of memory and cane work until finally she got to the right class, and knocked on the door after finding it with her cane since it was opened.

She heard a bark.

"Hi," Lucia smiled. She'd mostly been talking to her dog, but Mr Bellandini responded.

"Hello," he said. "How was your first day, Lucia?"

"Good," she said. "How was Artemis? Did she behave?"

"Of course she did. She walked around the class and lied down under the desk you took this morning. She's a very useful dog. She picked up the pencil I dropped once."

"She does that," Lucia nodded. "I'm bad at picking pencils things up; I always end up swatting them away. She kind-of picked that up on her own, though."

She felt Artemis' fur against her legs, and so she knelt and ran her hands along Artemis' back.

"She's a very intelligent dog."

"She is. But she's also very playful. They called her Artemis because that's the Greek goddess of the hunt, and she _loves _playing fetch."

He laughed. "That's quite clever."

"Yes," she said. "They also say that Artemis protected young girls. The people at the CGDB center got a kick out of that when they partnered us up."

"I bet," Mr Bellandini said. "Was she okay at school? Were the other students okay?"

"I don't know," Lucia said. "I mean… Ruya told me that when we were in the cafeteria loads of people were looking. And when we were outside for lunch people kept asking to pet her."

"And you said no."

"Of course," Lucia said. "She's working. And as much as she loves affection and I want her to get that, I don't want to run into a locker and split my lip either."

That hadn't been fun.

"And she doesn't want that to happen either. She wants to be a guide dog, that's why she followed her training and allows me to put the harness on."

"Good point," Mr Bellandini said. "So how often does your dog work?"

"Whenever I'm outside the house," Lucia said. "At school, going to buy milk at the corner store, walking to someone's house, whatever. I know my house well enough to navigate it, and she needs her rest. If I overwork her, she won't want to work anymore."

Mr Bellandini asked more questions, he seemed particularly intrigued with gym class. She told him that she was going to ask and see if Artemis could run with her during gym and so forth.

The bell rang and Lucia had to go.

And that was the first day of school.

* * *

><p>"Hey Lucia, twenty guesses to who I am," someone said.<p>

Usually she hated that. People assumed that the blind had fantastic auditory memories- and although Lucia did, not everyone had good hearing. But in this case she recognised his voice. It was kind-of unforgettable, and he always walked with her to math class.

"Samson?"

"You're getting good at recognising my voice."

"Of course I am, I'm an auditory genius," Lucia grinned.

"Don't go bragging, Beethoven went deaf, you know." Samson said. "Need help with your locker?"

"No thanks, I'm fine." Her dad had put braille labels on the side so that she knew where to stop the dial. What she didn't tell Samson was that she'd been trying to open the damn thing for ten minutes.

With him behind her, it clicked open at last. She reached for her book and checked to make sure that it was the right one by hovering her fingers over the first page to read the Braille. She put it in her messenger bag, closed the locker, and told Artemis to follow Samson. This was easier.

They talked on the way. Samson told her about how his brother Elijah was going to get married to the girl he'd met at college and that Samson personally doubted was real.

"I'm sure she's real."

"That's because you haven't seen my brother's face. Once you've seen that, you're not sure if there's a woman to love it."

Another cool thing about Samson was that he didn't get all sensitive when he used the word 'see' in everyday language. Like 'see, I told you so'. Some people got all flustered when they said it around her. Lucia was like, 'umm, hello? I know I'm blind, and I know you aren't, it's not a crime'.

"Looks don't matter," Lucia chimed in.

He told her about his sister Katherine who was at design school, and his brother Luca who was in Afghanistan right then. She didn't have any siblings of her own, so she just enjoyed his stories and laughed.

* * *

><p>"Okay girls, forget football today," Madame Pointelance said in her flawless French. "I've got a surprise for you. Today we're doing archery!"<p>

People were either excited or confused or devastated all around Lucia.

"My brother is the director of the Peregrine Vision Archery Range," she went on. "And he agreed that more people needed to explore the sport. So you're going to go around, pick one bow, four arrows, and make even lines in front of either three targets. Then, Mary who you see here will give you further instructions. Go!"

Abby, who had taken on the role of Lucia's guide during gym class, even when they weren't running together, came to find her and lead her to the rows where she picked out what she needed. The grips on the bow helped her find where to hold.

When Mary was explaining what was going on, Madame Portelance tapped Lucia on the shoulder and whispered;

"We found a way to help you out with the shooting," she said. "Come with me."

"Great," Lucia smiled. "Thanks a lot!" She didn't really want to miss something as cool as archery.

There appeared to be another assistant that Madame Portelance guided her to. His name was Jonno and he was what was apparently called her 'spotter'.

He explained to her that blind archery had been around since the early 1970's in Europe, and there were tournaments. He explained to her that at the Paralympics there were two categories: B1 for the completely blind (which was where Lucia would fit in) and V1 Open, for those who had some sight or just impaired fields of vision.

He explained that there was a shooting aid she could use which was lined up with the target. Jonno guided her arm to a tactile system. It was basically a tripod that she could line up the arm holding the bow with. After she did that, she was on her own to load the arrow, pull the string back and shoot. She had to be really steady or else she'd lose her spot. Jonno couldn't tell her whether her arrow was going high or low or to the right or to the left because that'd be like cheating in a competition.

She was still really excited to try, even if she failed miserably about 80% of the time. Madame Portelance promised that there would be a whole two weeks of archery though. To introduce them to a 'new and universal sport that anybody can do'.

_The blind can aim. Samson will love that_, she thought.

* * *

><p>Today Mom was going to be late picking her up, and there was no way that Lucia was walking home in the incredibly scorching heat. September should <em>not <em>be this hot.

So she'd sat down in front of her locker, waiting for her cell to ring, reading her assigned reading for English class. Artemis lay at her side.

"Hey it's Samson and I'm at your right, why are you still here?" Samson introduced himself with.

"Me? What about you."

"I missed the bus."

"That sucks."

"Yeah, it does. You?"

"My mom can't pick me up for a while and there's no way I'm walking in that heat," Lucia said shaking her head. "Plus my bag weighs a ton because of that history paper we have to write."

"I know the feeling," Samson said. "Well, instead of staying out here, do you want to go to the library?"

"Sure," she said slamming her book shut. She hadn't actually been to the library yet. Call her crazy, but the books in there weren't particularly helpful.

She got up and put her book in her bag, and picked up Artemis' harness, and Samson helped steer her to the library.

He put her hand on the back of the chair when she asked him. She sat down and he told her that he was right in front.

"Where are you at in the project?" He asked. She started taking her books out.

They talked for a while, and Lucia took notes and read as they talked.

In case you were wondering; Lucia used her iPod to take notes most of the time, by talking in the voice memo, but she also used a Braille note taker, which was an impressive and expensive piece of technology that the school technically owned. Most of the time she got downloaded notes from the internet.

Eventually (that is to say, very quickly), they got off-track.

"So the only thing that my little cousin, Erik, possibly considers doing with the chopsticks is to grab them and say 'this is so cool!' and sticks one up each nostril."

Lucia laughed.

Samson chuckled for a second too. "And then when the waiter comes to bring the extra chair Erik turns towards him and says 'I'm a double unicorn!'"

Lucia was going to die if she laughed more.

"My cousin did something like that, but he called himself a narwhal, and he's about eighteen."

"Then he must've had them in his mouth," Samson reasoned. "See, Erik didn't want to be confused for a vampire, and there was no better place for the chopsticks than his nose to be a unicorn."

How he said it like this was logic that made sense was just amazing to Lucia.

"Fair enough," she said. "Speaking of which, do double unicorns exist?"

They didn't do any history after that.

* * *

><p>Lucia reached into the bottom shelf of her locker to find her gym shoes. She had to pat around for a while before she found a strap. And a flat part… Flip-flops? What the frigg?<p>

She got up and panicked for a second. That's when someone started laughing and the flip-flops were pulled out of her hands.

"Sorry. I had to do it. These are Katherine's." A voice that was obviously Samson said.

"When the heck did you figure out my locker combination?"

"Ages ago," Samson said. "I just thought I had to do it."

"Yeah, well, you think a lot of stupid things," Lucia said.

"You aren't offended by my pulling pranks?" Samson checked. "Because I'm really sorry if you are."

Lucia thought for a second. People pulled pranks on people, friends pulled pranks on friends all the time.

"No. I guess you could've pranked anyone, right? As long as you promise not to pull any pranks that can, like, hurt me or Artemis." She said.

"Deal. Also that was an invitation that I'll take you up on."

"What? No! That's not what I…"

Samson laughed, announced that he was going to run before she could hit him, and off he went.

* * *

><p>Everyone worked freely in math class, which basically meant that everyone <em>didn't <em>work. The radio was on in the back and Samson was singing. He was an awful singer, but he sung like he didn't care, which was endearing somehow.

"Stop singing, my ears are bleeding," Lucia finally said, hitting him on the arm.

"Wait, no, my arm's more to the right. Try it again."

She did.

"Stop singing, my ears are bleeding," she repeated.

"I'm so hurt," he said. "You pick your ears over my joy. Also you hit hard."

"No, I'm picking the world's avalanche quota over you giving yourself a throat ache."

"Right on," the teacher Mr Bell said, knocking on her table.

"I see. Me against the world," Samson said. "I was considering you as a proper partner for the zombie apocalypse, but now I'm reconsidering my whole life."

"That's right, you go pout," Lucia laughed.

* * *

><p>"So," Ruya said when she sat down at the cafeteria table, across from Lucia and Artemis. "Samson…"<p>

"What about him?" Lucia asked, unpacking her lunch.

"Samson Benet?" Theia asked. "Like, curly hair..?"

"Yes," Ruya said. "He's in history with us."

"And math with me." Lucia said.

"Oh he's pretty, that's what's about him." Theia said. "Permission to pet your dog?"

"Sure," Lucia said. "And what do you mean he's pretty?"

She'd never thought of this. Since she didn't really know what people looked like in the first place –by feeling out the faces of her closest friends and family, okay, she had a vague idea, also she knew body parts, but for all she knew she had the totally wrong idea- but she never imagined people as better looking than others.

Apparently they were, though. But she'd never imagined Samson as part of that better-looking-than-others category.

"Physically attractive." Ruya said. "He is. He's very pretty. But that's not the point. You're hanging out with him a lot, huh Luce?"

"I guess," she said.

Truthfully, she'd met up with him in the library a couple more times, or in the fields outside of school. She always sat with him in math class. She'd spent lunch with him once when Ruya and Theia had been in a class-wide detention (courtesy of music class) and had met his friends, Marc and Jake. He always ran with her in gym, whether Abby was there or not.

"Hmm," Ruya said. "And is that going somewhere?"

"What are you saying?" Lucia said, her cheeks getting hotter.

"If you could see your face…" Theia said. "No pun intended. Anyways, then you wouldn't even try to tell us that you are totally crushing on Samson."

"No way," Lucia said. "He's just a friend. I _am _making friends this year."

"Of course," Ruya said. "But it's okay if you make a boyfriend this year. Come on Luce."

"Okay, fine." She said. "What do you want me to tell you? He's funny and thoughtful and he's really considerate and he doesn't care what other people think and he doesn't treat me like I'm a breakable thing that's ultra-sensitive. Sure."

"Sweetie, that's pronounced 'I have a crush on him'." Theia said.

* * *

><p>"Okay, you're set." Jonno said. Her arm was resting on the tripod.<p>

She loaded her bow, which went a lot more smoothly after another period of practise, pulled back. She let go and the string made a snapping noise she'd recognise anywhere now.

"How was that one?" Lucia said. She was surprisingly good at archery. Maybe it was just that after all this practise you couldn't suck at it.

Nobody said anything.

"How was it?" She asked again.

"Luce…" Nicole, the only friend Lucia had managed to make in gym class, said. "You just hit a bulls-eye. This puts all of us to shame."

* * *

><p>"Did you miss your bus again?" Lucia said once Samson said hello.<p>

"Nope," he said. "I am walking today. Care to walk with me for a while?"

"Sure," she said.

She and Samson walked out.

She kept thinking of what Ruya had said.

"Samson?" She asked.

"Yeah?"

"I have no clue what you look like," she blurted. She regretted it the second after.

_Screw me, _Lucia thought.

"Umm… Luce?"

"Yeah?"

"Is that supposed to be news?"

She laughed. "No, I mean… I'd like to know…"

"Oh," he said. "Well sure. How can I… how does that work? Do you, like, know colours?"

"I've never seen colours," Lucia said. "Umm… I have a good sense of touch, though."

"Oh. So… touch my face? Do you want to do that?"

Lucia nodded and she outstretched her hand.

"I'm going to take it," he said. "Your hand."

"Okay," she said. Her heart felt like it wasn't beating anymore.

Her hands hit his skin. He was warm, possibly too hot. Sweat beaded his nose since gym class had been last period.

"That's my nose," he said.

"I know," she said. For some reason she was very quiet. He moved her hand around, tracing his face, trying to be gentle so she didn't burst his eye or something. He had low cheekbones. His face was smooth. He had a small nose. Her hand trailed to where the skin folded above the lips. His lower lip was bigger than the upper lip. His eyes were like almonds and his eyelashes tickled her fingertips. Hair fell right above his eyes, and from what she could tell it was curly.

She knew all this because Ruya and Theia had taught her the shapes of a face 'specifically for occasions like that' they'd later tell her.

She also kind-of believed something else that they'd told her now.

Samson Benet was attractive.

* * *

><p>She was walking around the house before Mom and Dad got back home from work. She was trying to find the phone to call Ruya and ask her if she wanted to watch a movie since Theia was out of town for a funeral, but someone had used the phone and hadn't put it back- which aggravated her. It was stupid things like that that made her life harder- along with the little stickers on apple (her stomach was coated with them, she knew it), the paper notes on bathroom stalls (that made her scared that if she peed and flushed she was going to either a) flood the whole building or b) end up at the Ministry of Magic's).<p>

Artemis was at her ankles. She tended to do this a lot, hang out around Lucia even if she had total freedom.

"What are you doing, girl?" Lucia asked, kneeling carefully. She put a hand on either side of Artemis' head and rubbed her ears. "What are you doing with herself? You little workaholic, always taking care of me."

Artemis walked closer to her, which pushed her down on her butt with a surprise.

"Oh! Gosh, now you're just attention seeking. Yeah that's you. Yeah, isn't it?" She put her head in Artemis' neck.

"It's okay, I love you." She said.

* * *

><p>Lucia was studying in the library when she heard heavy barking sounds. She frowned.<p>

"Artemis," she whispered. "Quiet."

Growling.

"Artemis!" She lowered her hand waiting for the muzzle. "Bad girl. You don't do that. What's gotten into you?"

Someone laughed and she turned.

"Samson?" She asked. She could recognise that laugh anywhere. "Samson, what's going on? Is Artemis okay? Is someone..?"

"Lucia?"

"Yeah?"

"That's not Artemis."

"What..?"

"It's Steve and Locco that I recorded on my iPod."

Her jaw dropped. "You are such a retard."

He laughed again. "You love me for it."

_That, I apparently do._

* * *

><p>She and Samson were running outside. Abby was sick and although a whole lot of girls had volunteered to be her tether, she'd gone to get Artemis instead. Mom hadn't approved of that (<em>yet<em>; she and Dad were working hard on it) but Lucia figured that it was her gym class, her class credit that'd go towards her diploma, her dog, and her face that may or may not accidentally hit a soccer post.

Mr Bellandini had seemed a bit disappointed, but that was fine.

"Well aren't you a little rebel?" Someone said. "Samson. At your left."

"I know who you are," Lucia said. "I hear you all the time."

"Your hair looks good when it's up," he said out of nowhere.

"Oh," Lucia said. "Thanks…"

She had no opinion on this. She relied on Theia for fashion.

"Theia doesn't think so, she thinks it frames my face better to have it down," Lucia said.

"I guess that's one way to look at it. But my logic is that it's up right now, and you're pretty right now. Ask me how your hair looks in math tomorrow, and I'll tell you it looks great when it's down."

Lucia's cheeks got hot. Was he… flirting with her?

"You're sweet," she said.

This was one of those times where she _desperately needed to see him so she had something to reply. _

"About last Friday… When I touched your face…" She said. "That's not usually how I recognise people. Usually it's the voice or the footsteps or a perfume. It's just that my friends told me you were good looking and that's as close as I can get to know."

"And was I?" He asked.

"Yes," Lucia said nearly too quickly.

"Well, I'll just keep your hands away from the faces Daniel Radcliffe, Shia LeBeouf or Taylor Lautner, then." He said.

"You're laughing at me, aren't you?" She said.

"No. I just like that you see me without seeing me. Like all the other girls see me by… seeing me."

"Please go on," she said confused.

"Like, a lot of girls start seeing who I am by seeing my face. But you started seeing who I am by hearing my voice and my lame jokes and my stupid singing. And you're still not running away from me, so that's worth a lot to me." Samson said.

"You're welcome?" She said.

Samson laughed.

"Do you like movies?"

"Sure," Lucia said.

"Even if they're not those described-for-the-visually-impaired ones?"

"Yeah," Lucia said. "I manage."

"So…" Samson said. "Would you like to come see one? With me?"

Lucia froze in her run, which puzzled Artemis to no limits as she expressed with a whimper.

"I…" She said. "I would love to," she said. She was freaking shocked. "I would adore to."

* * *

><p>"<em>What?" <em>Mom said.

"I got asked out at school," Lucia said. "And I said yes."

"By who? Who is he? How well do you know him?" Mom asked, snapping questions out like bullets.

"Mom, calm down. I thought Dad was the one who was supposed to be freaking out about this." Lucia sighed.

"Yes, honey, why _aren't _you?" Her mom said, as if it were a bad thing that he was being a rational human being.

That's why Lucia loved her dad. He was smart and logical and rational and reasonable, whereas _Mom _could be a ball of spazzing and nerves sometimes, as shown right there and then.

"She's turning sixteen next June," her dad said. "I think this is good for her. She's happy. You're happy, right Luce?"

"Yeah, I am." She said. "I'm really happy."

"Answer my questions," her mom sighed. "Who is she? How well do you know him?"

"His name's Samson. We have history and math together, and our gym classes are always on the running track at the exact same time." Lucia said. It sounded rehearsed, even to her.

"What's he like?"

"He's an axe-murderer Mom." Lucia said, getting a bit impatient. Dad snorted.

"He's awesome, Mom, that's why I said yes." Lucia said. "He's a nice guy. Calm down. If you don't want to give me a ride to the movies, I'll just take the bus."

"No! Not the bus at that time of the night."

"So you'll give me a ride, then?"

"I don't know, we don't know him," her mom said anxiously.

"Mom, stop it, I'm going to be fine!" Lucia snapped. "You're just being super anguished because you think that I'm going to get kidnapped in the middle of the night by someone at the movies because I'm _blind." _

There. She'd said it.

"Honey, that's not true…" her mother said, springing on the opportunity.

"No. It is. You're always freaking out about me. But guess what, Mom? I can read, write, get around, talk to people, have a life, my memory's awesome and I'm really sporty. I'm not helpless. Yeah, I get it; being blind is bad for your security every now and then, but I'm not stupid." She said. "I trust him, and you should start trusting _me." _

"Honey, I…" her mom was baffled. Lucia was a mellow person. She didn't get mad or annoyed easily but lately she increasingly couldn't take being babied. Her mother's total mistrust of Samson drove Lucia insane. "I do trust you."

"Then you should trust the world," Lucia said. "It's not out to get me."

"Sweetheart, I think Luce has got a point." Her dad spoke up. "She's fifteen. We're her parents, so we're meant to protect her, but she also needs to protect herself."

"Nicholas-" her mom said.

"I'm not mad," Lucia said. "But I'm not a baby either."

"I never said you were. I know how you aren't; I know you're a beautiful and mature person…" Her mom put her hand on Luce's own. "But…"

"I'm blind. I get it. If that doesn't get me out of eating broccoli and going to school, then it's not getting me out of fun stuff." Lucia said. "The stuff I want to do. And I _want _to do this."

* * *

><p>"Theia I am freaking out. I am freaking out as we speak."<p>

"Okay, okay, calm down. I'll be there in a second. Also I will bring Ruya." Theia said on the other end of the phone. "Just breathe. In and out. See how nice oxygen is? Just keep doing that and indulge in the O, and we will be there soon."

"I'm supposed to meet him outside the theater in an hour," Lucia said.

She was a stereotypical teenage girl from a YA fiction book, freaking out over one date with one boy. But screw that. For the first time she got to be typical and normal and go out on a date. With Samson, at that. So she would do the freaking out thing.

"I know, but there's enough oxygen to last you 'til then. I'll be _right there. With Ruya." _Theia said. Her voice calmed Lucia down.

"You're a life saver, Thei." Lucia said.

"Just doing my job as official best friend. Ciao Bella," she said hanging up.

Sure enough, ten minutes later (they really did live close together when you cut through the park), Theia and Ruya were in her room.

"I can't see a thing," she said. "I have one dress for funerals, that's it."

"Stop freaking out," Ruya said. "And, I don't mean to be insensitive, but that first part isn't news to us."

Lucia made a face in Ruya's general direction.

"Okay, here," Theia said. "It's really not complicated. This, this, that, and this looks good."

"Please be more specific," Lucia requested. She felt helpless.

"It's that black top. Long sleeves with the pointy ends, that opens up a bit over your tummy, with about three buttons."

"Okay," Lucia said.

"With a white tank top. It's exactly what you wear any other day, so it won't look overdone. But I think that with these jeans, the shoes you had for sixth grade graduation, and Ruya's necklace, it'll be great."

"I trust you." Lucia said considering that she didn't know any better.

"And I will surrender my necklace for this purpose." Ruya said. "This is great for you. Besides, you gave me your lucky ring for _my _first date."

"Crud, do I have the lucky ring?" She said, hand flying to her thumb.

"Yes, you wear it all the time." Theia said. "Stop freaking. If you hyperventilate and die in that theater, it'll ruin it."

Theia also decided to play with her hair, which Lucia was initially up against. But she should've known that she'd created a monster by asking for help.

"He told you your hair looked good when it was up," Theia said. "It's metaphoric if I put it up."

"I think you mean symbolic," Ruya spoke up. She was sitting on the bed.

"Whatever."

"Wait, Ru, are you still petting Artemis? She's not allowed on my bed, Mom thinks it'll create a bad habit. Artemis, down!" Lucia called.

She heard whimpering and then Artemis jumped back to the floor.

"Come here," she said, holding out a hand low enough for Artemis. Artemis came, and Lucia held her muzzle, which was Artemis' cue that she'd done something wrong. "You don't go on my bed. Understood girl?"

Lucia let Artemis go, and she only heard her walking on the ground, four paws on the floor.

"I don't want her to start barking during a movie, what if tonight this is her first act of rebellion?" Lucia said.

"She won't," Theia said. "You're going through the what-could-possibly-go-wrong-hey!-let's-make-a-list thing."

"Like Ruya did," she sighed.

"Yes, and we swore to each other that since _that'd _been a pain, we were never going to do that to each other." Theia reminded her.

"All these things that happened behind my back…" Ruya said.

"Okay," Lucia said. "I'll chill. I'll calm down. I mean, I talk to Samson all the time. Right?"

"Of course, sweetie." Theia sighed. She clipped her hair up.

"There. Like you wore it up in seventh grade. Messy and pretty."

"I love you Theia. I love you and your eyes and how you know these things." Lucia said, getting up and spreading her arms for a hug.

* * *

><p>"Hello I am Samson and I'm right behind you," someone said.<p>

"Said the stalker," she smiled.

"Oh ha-ha. Now I'm next to you."

Lucia turned her head.

"You look great." He said. Shyly she outstretched her hand and he guided it to his face.

"So do you." She said.

"And your dog really compliments your eyes," he said. Lucia laughed. She didn't mind his jokes. He wasn't being insensitive. The dog was part of the gig she had, and the gig that Samson liked apparently- so she didn't have anything against it.

"Shall we go inside, now?" Samson asked.

"Of course," Lucia said. "Up," she said.

Artemis led her up the stairs.

"Can I..? Just hold your hand so we don't get separated?" Samson asked. "There are a lot of people."

"Sure," she said. Her heart beat like mad, but in they went.

She followed him to the ticket line, then inside the theater.

They sat in the back, at the end of the aisle so that when the movie started, Artemis had a bit more room to lie down and fall asleep (she fell asleep during movies. When there was a gunshot she lifted her head to make sure all was okay though).

They leaned back in their seats and talked. His sister Katherine had been home for the weekend, which sprung off a conversation that started with fashion school and ended with the common agreement that blue Jell-O was the best since multicolour Jell-O was not a thing, but that Samson would go work for Jell-O Inc. when he grew up and create it.

During the movie he didn't have to fill in Lucia much, she knew what was going on. But she didn't tell him to stop. Honestly, it made her feel really special that he'd lean in to explain that people were laughing because the guy was lip synching what his girlfriend was actually saying, or that the nun had just scraped all the beans off the bad guy's plate and was eating them herself so that he'd go back and get the poisoned kind.

She wanted to hold his hand, but she wasn't sure if she should. What if she missed and wacked him? Shouldn't he be the one to hold her hand?

When the movie ended, Samson told her so.

"Do you want to wait until people leave or be the first out?" He asked.

"First out," she said. "That way they don't stop to ask questions."

"Smart," he said. "You've been to the movies before."

"Not with a date like you, I haven't."

"Well I'd pity you if you did."

Lucia laughed. "This is actually my first date," she said.

"Really? I'm honoured. May I be there for the second?" Samson asked.

Lucia smiled. "Of course," she said.

* * *

><p>"Ippon, soremade!" The referee said in a loud and clear voice.<p>

Grinning and panting, Lucia froze, knowing she'd won, and waited for help to be guided back to her starting position. She knew that she was somewhere near the left corner of the mat because Coach Lee always called these things out to her.

She bowed to her competitor at the mat referee's signal and then awaited the referee's award of the match. He raised her hand in the air. People clapped all around the mat and Lucia smiled, catching her breath at the same time.

She was a bit confused about left and right for a second of vertigo, but the referee on the mat helped her walk off the mat, stopping to bow twice. Lucia was about to ask if she could go shake her opponent's hand, but she heard muffled sobbing, and decided against it.

She waited for her Coach to come, and recognised his voice immediately.

"'Atta girl, Luce." The voice of Coach Lee said was deep and naturally loud, so she didn't ever mistake them. A hand slapped her back and she grinned.

"You nailed that girl in one throw, bread and butter, short and sweet, I love it," he said.

Lucia nodded, still catching her breath.

"Here, there's water coming."

She tilted her head back, opened her mouth and Coach Lee poured some water in. He put her glasses in her hand, and she slipped them over her nose.

"For the only blind kid in this tournament, you sure are a showstopper." He said. "Loads of people are amazed."

Lucia nodded. Finally her lungs started to inflate again and she managed to word out; "Doesn't matter if you can see or not."

"Nope, sure doesn't. Okay, I've got Bruce about to get a match started at another mat, so I'll catch you later. Your boyfriend and friend are coming at us."

"Boyfriend?" She probably blushed. "He's not my boyfriend!" Lucia said.

"Could've fooled me," Coach Lee said. "Later kiddo."

He always did this at judo tournaments. Usually about ten kids at once were competing, and so he had to run around and take care of them all. He always stayed with Lucia when she was on the mat during non-blind tournaments because refs weren't always good and fair about giving her cues and pointers.

Tournaments for the blind _did _take place. But not always in town, and not a lot of competitors happened to be in Lucia's particular weight, skill and gender group. She'd started in tournaments for the sighted last year, and had done reasonably well.

"Luce," Ruya said. Someone grabbed her arm. "It's me, you did great! One throw and BAM, match ended!"

"I was too tired to mess around," Lucia said. "I had three minutes between this match and the last."

"That's not cool," Samson said. "You sure you're not a black belt? 'Cause you were really good at that."

"No, I'm blue. The black belts are scary good."

"You're scary good. Remind me to be nice to you."

Lucia panted. "I'm starved. Ru, do you have my bag?"

"Yeah," she said. Lucia outstretched her hand and a strap landed above it.

"I texted Theia to tell her about your win," Ruya said. "She said congrats."

"Cool," Lucia said pulling out a Ziploc bag. "This is mango, right?"

"Nope; prunes." Samson said.

She rummaged some more.

"Aren't your parents around?" Samson asked.

"Nope," Lucia said. "Dad had to work and Mom _hates _judo. She thinks I'll get hurt, which I probably will because it's a martial art and all. That's why she always picks up Ruya or Theia for me to bring instead."

"Can I get a ride next time too, then? You're holding the mango by the way."

"Thanks. And I don't know, maybe." She ate a piece of mango. "You're planning on coming back?"

"Oh yeah, this is cool." Samson said. "If you, like, don't mind and all…"

"No, that'd be cool." Lucia said maybe too quickly. "Really, I love having people here."

"She does," Ruya said. "It makes her feel special."

Lucia swallowed her mango.

"You know what, enough with fresh fruit; I want and deserve a Kit-Kat. Did you two see vending machines around?"

"Even better: I found the best one." Samson said.

"Cool. Can I get my cane?"

Ruya handed Lucia her cane. Technically it was illegal for anyone who wasn't legally blind to carry a long white cane, but Ruya was holding it for Lucia while she was on the mat. Besides; the way she carried it made it clear that she didn't need it according to Samson.

Bringing Artemis to the tournament hadn't seemed like a good idea. Some competitors were as young as seven, so the dog would be distracting. Besides; Artemis wouldn't like seeing Lucia thrown around. She took her job way seriously.

"Thank God you asked. She's been hitting me with it forever." Samson said. "That woman's dangerous with a cane."

The tip of the cane poked Lucia's palm and she closed her fingers around it, slipping the hand strap around her wrist.

And then she hit Samson for good measure, sending Ruya into laughter.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Luce?" Samson asked her as they waited by the front door. Ruya had had to leave the tournament right away because her great-grandmother was turning ninety and getting a surprise party, but Samson had opted to wait with Luce and walk home.<p>

"Yeah?"

"You were beast out there."

"Thanks."

"Like, really impressive."

"Thank you," she smiled.

"I was kind-of far off, but I noticed that you weren't wearing sunglasses during the match," Samson noticed.

"No," she said. "I'm not allowed to."

"But why do you wear them all the other times, then?" He asked her.

"A couple of reasons," she said. "I'm completely blind, right? I can't even tell if I'm looking in someone's direction, so it stops people from telling me to quit starring. Also it's a stereotypical blind thing."

"But you're not stereotypical."

"No," Lucia said. "But in case the cane or Artemis doesn't yell it out, people realise that I'm blind. So if I'm accidentally crossing the street when it's a red light, people know that I legally have the right of way and so forth. Bunch of things like that."

"Oh," Samson said. "So your eyes aren't, like, pure white or bloody or something?"

"No," Lucia said. "I don't think so. That's not why I'm blind."

"Why _are _you blind?" Samson asked. His questions were fearless. She couldn't see his face or tell if he was nervous about asking this, but he sounded fearless, and Samson generally was. He didn't think that pulling pranks on her, asking questions or using expressions like 'I see what you mean' would hurt her. He'd accepted her. He'd accepted her differences, and he was totally ignoring them and letting her be herself and letting him be himself. That was a treasure.

"When I was a baby, they put me in the incubator because I was a preemie. But they accidentally gave me an overload of oxygen, and it just destroyed the optic nerves that go with the eyes."

"So you _could _see once?"

"When I was a baby," Lucia said. "Like, maybe the first few hours of my life. I can't remember seeing anything, if that's what you're asking."

"Kind-of. It's sad how you could have been not-blind. I mean, it doesn't matter. But it kind of sucks for you." Samson said.

Lucia shrugged. "My life's going okay. I can manage being blind."

"Do your eyes look burned, or is it just the nerve?"

"I think my eyes look normal. I've never actually _seen _them."

"Can I?" Samson asked. Lucia was surprised. The only people who'd seen her eyes were her kindergarten teacher when Lucia had had to write down her hair and eye colour for a project, the doctors who examined her eyes, her parents, Theia and Ruya. Her grandparents probably hadn't seen her without sunglasses.

"Umm… of course..." Lucia said.

Samson's fingers slid the glasses off her face. For a second he was quiet.

She was feeling very self-conscious all of a sudden. Why? Well, Lucia's eyes were the part of her that was failing to do its job. She'd always just assumed that if she wore sunglasses, people wouldn't wonder about them, or that the sunglasses kind-of hid them in case they looked attrocious.

"And?" Lucia asked.

"They're really pretty," was the first thing Samson said.

"Really?"

"Yeah. They're almond shaped, like this," he said tracing the shape of her eye with his finger. "And they're green. Like, popping, pretty, royal emerald green, like the stone. And you don't know what that is, but it's really beautiful. Especially on you."

Lucia blushed.

"I mean, there's _one _cataract but nobody cares," Samson said.

"That's because I don't use my eyes for anything, they just sit there. I can't even control the gaze and where the iris turns anymore."

"Yeah, I know, I'm doing that hypnotizing finger thing and they're not moving. I'm at your right."

Lucia smacked the nearest part of him her hand could find with his instructions.

He laughed. And then he was quiet, and he had a feeling that he was just looking at her eyes.

"I wish the dog was enough to let people know you were blind, because those are beautiful." Samson said.

Lucia blushed, "They're just eyes."

"That goes by the same logic of 'you're just a girl'." Lucia blushed and Samson stuttered, so he might be blushing too. "Which you're not, 'cause you're really cool and all."

* * *

><p>Lucia reached to pick up her bottle of cranberry juice from the cafeteria table and frowned. The bottle's shape was different. The creases in the plastic weren't…<p>

She brought it to her nose and smelled. Okay; not cranberry juice. It was chocolate smelling.

"Samson," she said. "Not funny."

Everyone else at the table started laughing, as the bottle was taken out of her hand and replaced by another one.

* * *

><p>"Boo!"<p>

"What's the opposite of 'ah'?" Lucia asked.

"Aw man. I can't even surprise the blind," Samson said. "How did you know it was me?"

"Because Artemis' tail was wagging and hitting my leg, and not many people are around after school," Lucia said.

"But I wasn't walking noisily."

"Yes you were."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes infinity. I win."

"No infinity and beyond. _I _win. Plus I used a Disney reference." Samson said. "I think you owe me money when I do that."

"Not a chance," Lucia said. "I see that your egomaniac is doing considerably well today."

"Better than the rest of me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Didn't anybody tell you? It's why I wasn't there this morning for math and history and why I didn't go find you in gym. My mom pitied me and let me sleep in, also she made my lunch. My arm's in a cast."

"You're kidding," Lucia said. "I didn't- I'm sorry- I couldn't-"

"See it," Samson said. "Yeah, I know."

"It happens a lot with the blind," Lucia joked. Samson laughed. His laugh was hearty and full. It treated each joke like the world's funniest, no matter how lame and old it was.

"Here," he said. His fingers curled around her hand and led it to his arm. She felt how hard it'd become because of ace bandages wrapped around and around.

"Oh yeah," Lucia said. "And how in the world did you do that to yourself?"

"It's really quite a story. Do you want to grab a coffee or something?"

"I don't drink coffee, but sure," Lucia said. She said that she'd call Mom when she'd need a ride. She could call in a little while. "Come on Artemis, let's get out of here."

Samson helped her direct Artemis down the hill leading up to the school and down a busy road. She heard the chimes of a door opening.

"It's open," he told her. "I'm holding it."

"Thank you," she said.

Samson let the door fall once everyone was in, and she heard it slam.

"Hello, how are you-" the generic waitress' voice spoke. "Oh, Miss, you're not allowed to have a dog in here."

"She's a guide dog, Ma'am." Lucia said.

"No dogs, we have a strict policy. It's for sanitary reasons, you understand?"

"Yes, of course I do, but I need her, and she's very well trained. She's a service dog; she's allowed to be here."

"Not according to the-"

"Ma'am, I need to have my guide dog with me at all moments."

"She'll have to wait outside, Miss, I'm sorry but my boss wouldn't be happy."

"Gosh dang it, the _prime minister_ wouldn't be happy to know that someone's needs are being trampled on. She has friggin rights." Samson said quite loudly. "It's a law. She's allowed to bring that dog anywhere she wants to anywhere."

Lucia felt her face go hot.

"But-"

"Are you really going to argue with us on a right? This thing's been in action since 1970. You can't deny someone services or facility in any place where the public is allowed because they're blind or because accompanied by a guide dog. Ontario Blind Person's Rights Act. White cane act. Whatever. Also water is wet and the earth is round."

"Oh. Oh, umm… Oh, of course… May I take your order?"

"Nah, never mind. Pizza's better than whatever not-coffee thing there is here." Samson said.

"Better yet, let's go to Tim's." Lucia said.

"Oh yeah," Samson said. He pulled the door. "Come on, out you come Artemis."

"Forwards," Lucia told Artemis.

As they walked Samson delivered a huge rant on how rude that waitress was and how everyone knew that [quote] "a friggin blind person can bring a friggin guide dog friggin anywhere" and how she must be an idiot and how she should've listened to them.

"Plus, the guy in the cast and the blind chick throw a pretty good pity party, so she's probably also heartless."

Then he threw in a few mentions of ignorance and how she'd starred at them as if someone had surgically removed her brain. He was going over the same things again and again.

"1970," Lucia interrupted him. "How did you know it was passed in 1970?"

"I…" his voice froze. "Well, I might've Googled it once."

"Googled it?"

"It's a verb; don't go all grammar police on me." Samson said.

"You Googled it once?" Lucia repeated. Deep down her heart was doing little backflips.

"Okay, many times." He said. "Okay, I spent three hours on the Internet the other day."

"Oh," Lucia said. "That's… sweet of you."

"Anyone would've done it."

"Nope." Lucia said. "Not everyone."

She suddenly wanted to hold his hand. She wanted to really badly, her fingers were itching. She had no idea where it was, but she knew that he was walking at her left.

She made a wild grab and her fingers found something, but apparently Samson swung his arms when he walked because it felt more like she'd hit his leg. Damn it.

"Looking for this?" He said.

"I'm assuming you're holding your hand up," Lucia asked. She must be beet red. It was _so _stupid that she had to ask these things.

"I am."

"Then yes."

He laced his fingers with hers and Lucia felt her heart beat like a drum.

"You don't have to do that," Lucia said.

"Do what?"

"Full blast rage at people." She said. "It's always going to happen to me, you know. People are always going to be ignorant or awkwardly/stupidly curious. I can handle myself."

"Yeah, I know. You're a tough cookie. But it just… it makes me mad."

"Why?" Lucia asked.

"Because I care about you, dummy." Samson said. "I care about you hell of an awful lot. And sometimes I'm worried like heck about people who… who don't care about you because they don't think that there is a you to care about, they think that there's just a dog on a harness and this girl following it. A pretty girl, certainly, but still."

"I'm pretty?"

"Nobody ever told you? Yeah. It's a shame you can't see that. If there was one thing I could show you in the whole wide world it would be you. Your face. Your hair. Your eyes."

Lucia blushed harder and Artemis' sudden halt came as a surprise since she wasn't paying attention.

"Red light," Samson explained.

"Gotcha," Lucia said. "Where are we going?"

"Tim Horton's, like you said." He replied. They waited for a second.

"Luce?" He said.

"Yeah?"

"I'm in front of you."

"Okay."

"I took a step closer."

"Okay."

"My hand's right over your right cheek."

"Okay."

"I'm coming in to touch you."

"Okay."

His hand pressed against her cheek. Her head tilted up a little bit.

"My face is really close to yours," he said. She felt his breath on her cheek.

"Okay." She said.

"And I mean really close."

"Okay."

"And my lips just landed on yours."

"I see."

* * *

><p>Lucia opened her locker and reached to the top shelf for her French book. She reached for it, counted three books and picked up the textbook. She ran her finger against its spine and frowned in confusion. What..? She couldn't feel the Braille writing.<p>

She must've tried for a good five minutes before she heard someone laugh.

Samson.

She turned towards him.

"You little jerk," Lucia said. "You stole my books?"

"And replaced them with mine," he said laughing. "Sorry. I had to do it."

"Where are you?"

"At your right."

Lucia swung the normal book and smacked him.

* * *

><p>Artemis' tail was wagging up and down and hitting the back of her calf.<p>

"Hey Samson," she said.

"What? How is it that you always know where I am?"

She was going to talk about Artemis' tail thing, but she decided to keep that information to herself.

"I'd have to shoot you if I told you."

"Considering that that Jonno dude isn't here, I'll take the risk." Samson replied. She made a face, hoping it was in his direction.

"I'm actually not blind. I work for the CIA. This is a cover. My dog barks flames." She said.

"Holy smokes, I knew it." Samson said. "So we don't need to go in the theatre and watch that action movie?"

"No," Lucia said. "We _need_ to see that action movie."

"You're right, it's supposed to be hilarious."

"No, it's just that I'm craving popcorn." Lucia said.

"So _that's _why we keep doing these date things…" Samson said understandingly. "Well, when it comes to you, I'll take what I can get. In we go, then."

She held her left elbow out, then realised he'd never guided her before. She'd never let him.

"Can you guide me?" She said. "It seems simpler." She blushed a bit. She didn't let many people guide her. Mom, Dad, Nona, Ruya, Theia, her teachers every now and then…

The thing was that just because people were nice to you in one place didn't mean that they would be at other places. People who helped her out when she was their client at a store or facility of some sort wouldn't automatically be nice in an out-of-job context. She handed them their trust when their job was to fulfill it, but outside she was a lot more careful with herself and her trust.

"Of course," he said. "So… I take your elbow?"

"Yes." She said. He took her arm and she moved his hand up to above her elbow.

"And I'm going to put down Artemis' harness and tell her to heel. Heel, girl."

"Stop?"

"No, just to follow me and stick close." Lucia said. This told Artemis that for now she wasn't in charge of leading Lucia. She clipped on a leash as opposed to a harness.

"Okay," he said. "So..?"

"Walk a step in front of me," she said. "Just… Just, like, steer me."

"Okay, I can do that." Samson said. "In we go: take two."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Thei?" She replied to whoever it was on the other end saying 'hello?'<p>

"Umm, Luce, it's Samson." The voice replied.

"Oh. Oh, sorry! I'm not used to having someone else in my contacts after Ruya." Lucia said.

Samson laughed. "No problem. Talk to you later. We said we'd meet in front of the arcade at one, right?"

"Definitely," Luce said. "Can't wait."

* * *

><p>"A special thought goes out today to the family of ninth grade student Samson Benet," the intercom said, "Whose brother got hurt in combat in Afghanistan last night."<p>

Lucia's heart sunk. She put a hand in front of her mouth. No. No way.

"We wish them the best of luck for the future, much love, and a good recovery."

The rest of the morning announcements didn't really matter to Lucia. Her mind kept swirling around in worry. Was Luca okay? Yes; they said 'hurt' not 'dead', so for now he was okay. Samson, what about him? And what about the rest of the Benet's? Katherine? She hadn't heard him around this morning, and if so he had been he'd have said hello.

"Oh God," Ruya whispered. "Oh my God…"

Lucia bit her lips and tried not to cry

"Is he alright?" Someone in the class asked. A million questions started peppering the heavy atmosphere. What happened? Should we make a card? Is Samson okay? What's his brother's name? What's going on? His brother was in Afghanistan?

Lucia just wanted to know one thing. Would they be okay?

* * *

><p>The next day Samson wasn't in school either.<p>

The day after that he found her at the table where she and Ruya were sitting, waiting for history to stop.

"Oh God!" She said jumping to her feet, surprising Artemis. Manoeuvring, one hand on the edge of the table, she found her way to the opposite side. She felt for Samson, wacked him in the chest once and threw her arms around his shoulders. He smelled faintly like Axe, as usual and he was warm, which for some reason reassured her _a lot. _

"Is Luca alright? What's happening? What about you, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Samson said. His arms squeezed her back. "Glad to see you too. Luca's okay. They evacuated him. He's in Great Britain right now. He lost a bunch of blood and got some shrapnel in his leg. They don't know if they're going to have to amputate."

"I'm sorry," Lucia said, hugging him tighter.

"It's okay. He's alive. He's flying back to Canada today. Not Ottawa, some hospital somewhere. But he's okay."

"I'm glad to hear it," Lucia said. "Really, really glad."

She was relieved in a way she didn't think you _could _be relieved for someone who you didn't know. Luca was an amazing guy from what Samson said; spirited, hilarious, a great storyteller… (Lucia had already started thinking of it as a Benet family trait).

"So am I," Samson sighed. He let go of her and she took a step back.

"I missed you." He said.

"Me too," Lucia said. "I was scared."

"No need to be scared. Luca's fine. You'll get to meet him sometime, promise."

* * *

><p>She unzipped Samson's backpack after a fair bit of searching for his zipper (he seemed to make both zippers of either side meet at the top?) and took out anything that felt like a book. She replaced them with Braille storybooks from home.<p>

Next came the pencil case, which was hard to find. She emptied all of its content into her own backpack and replaced the crayons and pens by plastic forks and knives she'd taken from the cafeteria. She put everything back in the bag and stood up innocently waiting for Samson to come back out of the guy's changing room where he'd apparently forgotten something.

"Hey," Samson said. "It's me. Thanks for keeping my bag."

"No problem," Lucia said.

Two could play the pranking game.

And one was going to have to be really nice on chat to get his stuff back.

* * *

><p>Lucia smashed her head into the books and groaned. French was impossible. Who needed to speak French? Why was French so important?<p>

She heard the scowling of her teacher and mother. Blah-blah-blah, national language, blah-blah-blah opens up horizons, blah-blah-blah.

She found her iPod in her pocket and checked through the voice recorders. She knew where her apps were by heart. She clicked on the top recording, expecting Madame Horace's droning voice, but instead got a familiar one.

"Yo, I look like an idiot, standing in the boy's bathroom with an iPod that's in a pink case… Plus I'm talking to it… but I just wanted to say that I love you, 'cause I can't write you a note or anything. So, ta-dah. Now I've got to go be a ninja and put this back in your pocket. Ciao Luce."

French was a blessing.

* * *

><p>"No way," her mother said right away. "We don't know these people."<p>

"Mom," Lucia sighed, tilting her head back.

This was why she'd considered enrolling Ruya and Theia to help her convince Mom.

"Honey, what if the parents aren't as nice as the boy?"

"Samson, mom, _Samson_. He has a name." Lucia snapped. "Stop pretending he's just a boy. He's my _boyfriend. _ I've gone on several dates with him, he came to my judo tournament, I went to his swimming thing, he comes home to do homework and watch movies sometimes."

"You brought a boy home?" Her mom freaked.

"Calm down," Lucia said. "You just never get to see him because he has to be home for supper, and that's always before you get back. Relax. He's really nice, mom, I swear I'll be okay."

"What if someone's allergic to Artemis?"

"They have two dogs. Besides, I'll take my cane; it'll just be simpler for that one time." Lucia said.

"Honey, what if their house has a lot of stairs?"

"I'm going to be surrounded by his family, and I know how to use a cane."

"What about coffee tables?"

"I'm pretty sure he won't let me run into coffee tables."

"And electric wires and-"

"Stop it!" Lucia snapped. "You do this every time I go to someone's house for the first time. It doesn't matter if their house isn't organised to be safe for the blind, it really, really doesn't; I can manage! We've had this discussion before, and I won't have it again. So either you say yes or I get dad in here to back me up once again."

Her mom was stunned into silence for some while.

"Don't use that tone of voice with me, young lady."

"Don't be overprotective with me and we won't have any problems getting along." Lucia replied.

"Lucia Madeline Addario." Her mother snapped.

Lucia shut up.

"I'm sorry." She said. "But he's my boyfriend. I don't mind if you don't want to bother to know his name, but you can't stop me from being his girlfriend and doing the stuff girlfriends do."

Her mother didn't say anything for a while.

"I worry about you."

"Which is fine because you're my mom. But I've been blind for fifteen years. I don't need my mommy left and right and at arm's reach anymore. Not all the time." Lucia said.

"Lucia, being a teenager is dangerous. Not everyone is a good person."

"Not everyone's a bad one either."

"No, but it's hard to tell. I don't want you to get burned."

"And I'm blind already which is never particularly helpful, I get it." Lucia said annoyed. "But I'm blind, not stupid."

"I never said anything of the sort."

"No, but it's nearly always implied."

"That's not true, young lady." Her mother said it like a threat.

"Okay maybe not." Lucia said. "But come on, mom. You got me Artemis, the cane, the Braille note taker, the books, the screen reader on the computer for me to have a normal life. A normal life isn't just getting to function. It's also enjoying it."

Her mother sighed and for a second it was quiet.

"You _can_ go over for supper, then. Just ask Samson his address so I can come pick you up afterwards, and make sure Mrs. Benet knows."

Lucia had never hugged her mother more tightly.

* * *

><p>After school, she and Samson crashed at the library for a while to do some work on the computer for a history project they had together. Samson read info off the Internet on one computer, and Lucia typed what was important on another.<p>

She had memorised the normal keyboard thanks to the two little bumps on the keys for f and j ages ago, and anyways, she used the screen reader at home to correct any mistakes she'd type.

Then they walked back to his house.

She'd missed Artemis a lot that day. She knew that she had to get used to still functioning with the cane every once in a while, if Artemis got sick for instance, but she liked her dog better. She was a lot more comforting to have around. Also walking around was smoother and quicker with her, and she didn't hit people's ankles in the hallway and have them cluck their tongues or sigh or say 'hey!' until they realised that she was 'the blind one' and they either apologised or mumbled 'never mind'. Also a lot of people would talk to her about Artemis or ask questions, which was fun for Lucia.

It was a cold November day and she had her hoody rolled up to her chin.

"You cold?" Samson asked. She nodded and he gave her his jacket.

"But now you'll freeze, that's no good." Lucia complained.

"Stop whining, you, I was wearing two." Samson said. He was guiding her, which made walking around a lot easier.

"Here we are," he said. The ground got steeper as they walked up a driveway.

"Sam?" Lucia asked.

"Lucia?" Samson replied.

"Your parents know that I'm blind, right?" She asked in a moment of doubt.

"Oh yeah," Samson said. "They know my girlfriend's blind."

_Girlfriend, girlfriend, holly smokes he called me his girlfriend._

She snapped herself out of it. She considered him her boyfriend too.

"It wouldn't change anything anyways." Samson said. "They think you're cool because you hit me when I mess with you and because you got me with the forks in the pencil case. Speaking of which I'm waiting for you to give me back my blue highlighter."

"You got everything back." She replied.

"Uh-uh," he sing-sung. "No blue highlighter."

She smacked his arm. It was good not to have to worry about which arm she smacked anymore since he had shed off the bandages a while back.

"Careful, stairs." He said. Lucia put a hand on the handrail and up the stairs she went.

Samson opened the door and yelled a huge 'I'M HOME AND I BROUGHT THIS RANDOM PERSON I FOUND!' that must've demanded a big lung capacity.

"Sammy, is that the way we introduce guests?" A woman called.

"Mom, this is Lucia. Luce, my mom's in front of you." Samson introduced.

"Hello," Lucia said, passing her cane to the hand whose attaching elbow Samson's was holding to offer her hand.

"Hello," Ms. Benet said, shaking it. "Samson told us a lot about you, Lucia, welcome. Keep your shoes on, make yourself at home."

"Thank you." Lucia said, suddenly a little intimidated by these voices she didn't recognise but who were people she wanted to look good to.

"So this is your mysterious girl," another girl's voice said.

"The one and only. Lucia, this is Katherine the Insane. Kath, this is Lucia."

She heard flesh hitting flesh. "I ain't any more insane than you, Sammy boy. Hi Lucia, it's great to finally see you. Oh- umm…"

"Kath, stop being stupid, you can use those words around her." Samson said as Lucia opened her mouth to politely explain it. "Luce is cool."

"Funny how you only tell me that when you've got your sister to make fun of," Lucia said, poking his foot with her cane.

"Ha ha Miss Luce. Okay, here, let's go see Luca. I'll take your bag." Samson said.

He led her down a clear hallway and down a set of two stairs, and to the left.

"Luke," Samson said. "Luke, this is my girlfriend. Straighten up, will you?"

"I thought she was blind," someone replied. "I could be in my underwear for all it matters. Don't worry Lucia, I'm not."

Lucia smiled. "You must be Luca."

"That's the generally socially accepted conclusion," Luca said. "Samson's told us about you a lot."

"That's a reoccurring theme, isn't it?" Samson said. "I bet I sound like a creeper."

"No you're sweet," Lucia said. "When you try." Or maybe it was when he didn't try- like at that coffee place, or on the running track, or how the awkwardness of asking him to guide her or asking him if she could touch her face had disappeared thanks to his determination to help. "Or maybe it's when you're sleeping."

Luca laughed. "Oh, you're good. Thanks for putting my bro in his place for the last little while. I'd hate for Kath, Mom and Dad to have to do all the work. I like to do it myself, but you know…"

"Stupid time and space continuum." Samson said.

"Exactly," Luca said. It sounded a little sad. "So, Lucia, I thought you had a dog…"

They talked with Luca for a bit, then Kath came in and joined, then they went to play Mario Party 8 in Samson's basement. She was surprisingly good at this when Kath helped her out. To which Samson kept yelling 'Illegal procedure!' or 'how is this acceptable, the ref must be blind'. Kath huffed, insulted, but Lucia didn't mind. Blindness wasn't taboo.

Then it was supper time, on which occasion she met Mr Benet; a man with a strong handshake and a loud voice.

Samson helped her figure out what was at which place in her plate; grilled vegetables at 11:00 o'clock; pork at 2:00, asparagus at 6:00; mashed sweet potatoes here, bread with butter already on it (thank you Samson) there, some kind of pasta salad there. It was _a lot _of food, but somehow Lucia made all of the deliciousness fit inside her stomach.

"Now Lucia, I thought you had a dog?" Mr Benet asked. Another reoccurring theme.

"I do." Lucia replied. "I usually have her around, but I left her at home. It's simpler for me to just follow Samson around in his own home than give her directions. Especially with Steve and Locco around."

They were swarming around Lucia's ankles, probably smelling Artemis.

"We had them caged up, didn't we?" Mr Benet asked. "It wouldn't have been a problem."

"Really, it's fine."

"What kind of dog is she? What's her name? When did you get her?" Katherine said. She spat out questions one after the other like an M16's bullets.

"Hey, Kath, stop asking her a million questions at once or else Luce is going to leave here being blind _and _deaf." Samson said.

After dinner, Lucia was excused from clearing the table. She tried to protest, but they sat her down in the living room with Luca, who was also excused from it.

"You know what Lucia, I like you." Luca said.

"Oh," she said confused. "Thanks."

"This sounds weird. Yeah… But it's not just because you know how to deal with my brother and you make him happy and smiling, and he loves you and has a decent girlfriend for once. You're the first person not to freak out about me after my accident."

"Oh," Lucia said.

She'd known that Luca had gotten in a bad spot in Afghanistan. Samson had explained it to her. He was in a truck that'd hit a land mine, and one of two people to have gotten hurt. Shrapnel was imbedded in his muscles and nerves, ripping tissue and breaking bones and spreading infections. One day Samson had come to school with a heavy heart and had told Lucia that his brother was heading in the OR but please not to tell anyone else.

"I don't know if it's because you can't see the stump or because you don't care about handicaps because you know that people can get over them." Luca said. "All I know is that you're cool that way. I know that you don't work the other way around either; that you're not dating my brother because he's perfect on the outside or whatever, but because you actually like him. And for what it's worth, he actually loves you too."

* * *

><p>She couldn't wait to get home. She'd felt the iPod be slipped back into her pocket when Samson came back from going to buy a bottle of water at the cafeteria, but instead of calling him out on it she'd decided to wait and listen to it at home. She really wanted to hear it.<p>

She unclipped Artemis' harness, and Artemis panted, barked and ran off into the house. Lucia threw her bag in its usual spot, walked to the couch, and squashed against it. Artemis was back in the room, by her side by the time she took the iPod from her back pocket.

"Come up girl," Lucia said, patting her knees. Artemis barked and lay down on Lucia's knees as she pressed play and rubbed Artemis' head with the other hand.

"Hey Luce," Samson said in the recording. "I'm going to have to stop doing this recording thing. You'll start expecting it, or realise when I've stolen your iPod. Anyways, someone probably told you about the Carnival in Winter dance the school's having next month. If not, well the posters have been up for a week and there is a Carnival in Winter dance. It's semiformal and for grades 9, 10, 11 and on December 17th, so still in a while. Will you go with me?"

* * *

><p>"Zip me up?" Ruya asked. Lucia nodded and her hands ran across the fabric of Ruya's dress until they found the zipper and pulled it up.<p>

"Did I pinch you?"

"Did you hear me yell out in agony?"

"Agony? Oh God, you're such a wimp, Ru." Lucia said.

"Okay, I'm back." Theia said, opening the door of Lucia's room.

"Thank God, eh?" Lucia joked.

"Ha ha, aren't you funny, Ruya sit here, your hair's a mess."

"No it's not!" Ruya defended.

"Yes, it is." Theia said. "You did it before putting on your dress, didn't you? Obviously. Get here, now. Mrs. Addario is driving us there in ten."

Ruya muttered in her beard, but obeyed, and Lucia knelt to the ground and called Artemis.

"Girl, you're going to have to stay here tonight, okay? Too many people, too much stuff going on, not enough space. I know you don't like this, but I've got to take the cane."

Artemis whimpered.

"I think you're way cuter than the cane and I love you a lot more," Lucia said planting a kiss on Artemis' head. She got licks all over the face in reply.

"Okay, you're good." Theia said. "Lucia, you coming?"

"I'm coming," she said her stomach filled with butterflies. She'd never been to a school dance before.

Well, she had, but never with a boy. Always with friends. And those dances had been with other blind kids before. Now she was worried about getting stepped on and pushed around and mushed. Theia had promised that everyone went through this at school dances and that it was normal and that she _had to go. _

Theia was very adamant about this for two reasons. One: when they'd bought their set of masks, Lucia had dibbed one at random and it ended up being a black and gold one that Theia had wanted. So if Lucia didn't come, the mask would be unused, and Theia haven got herself a dress that was either green or turquoise wouldn't be able to wear it because it wouldn't match. So basically the mask would go to a waist and Theia would freak. (This didn't make much sense to Lucia but in Theia-land it was really important).

Two: she was a sucker for Lucia's love life.

"How do I look?" Lucia asked as a second thought.

"Beautiful," Theia said.

"I think she's going more towards 'can you please describe it?'" Ruya said. "We told you. Black dress. Gold ribbons at the hem and waist. Your hair's up because that's Theia's symbolism for you. It's fine, it's gorgeous."

She picked off her cane from the bed. It was a folding one; that way she wasn't stuck holding a cane when she danced or if Samson was guiding her. She had two canes; the normal long white one, and a folding one that she kept in her locker in case something happened to Artemis during the school day (God forbid, knock on wood- heck; knock on a _forest._)

Then she hesitated for a second, but pulled off her sunglasses.

"Luce?" Ruya asked, surprised.

She took her mask from her pocket and with a bit of help and lots of feeling around, put it on.

"What?" She asked when Ruya and Theia didn't say anything. "It's a carnival themed dance. We're supposed to wear masks."

"Yeah but… is it okay for you not to wear sunglasses?" Theia asked.

"I'm not going to be walking around streets, I'll be fine." Lucia said. "I'm fine. I'll bring them with me if it makes you feel better."

"Yeah, please do." Ruya said. "Are you sure your mom's going to be okay with that?"

"I couldn't care less," Lucia said. "She's not in charge of tonight. She can have any other day, but not tonight."

"Gosh, someone's excited," Theia said.

"Luce, I know that she's overprotective but… really? Are you sure?"

"Yes," Lucia said. "I… This sounds stupid. I want him to see my eyes."

"Oh," Theia said. "Well there's a simple and rational explanation."

"It's just… sunglasses look intimidating to some people. And… I don't want to be intimidating, I want to be me."

An arm looped across her own. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Lucia spent a strange amount of time on the sidelines during the dance. Samson had told her that he'd be right back, and she didn't know for sure but it felt like a fifteen minute wait.<p>

"Luce, I'm here," he said before taking her hand. He sounded breathless.

"Good, I was going to send a search party after you," she said. "Where were you?"

"Bathroom."

"Got lost?" She asked.

"Sort-of," Samson said. "Come on, let's dance."

* * *

><p>Since Braille books were ridiculously expensive, she often resorted to audiobooks from the library for assigned reading and just hearing stories for the fun. It wasn't her favourite thing, but she figured that she at least had to have read some books to count as a cultured human.<p>

She put it in her CD player and put the headphones on expecting to hear the opening passage of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood prince, an old favourite.

Now: she didn't know the book by heart, but she was pretty sure that it wasn't; "The end of the world started when a Pegasus landed on the hood of my car."

And so she listened for a while before switching to a different CD. She called Mom and asked for help. Like she thought; none of the CD's were in the right case.

She didn't tell Mom because Mom was sensitive about this particular prankster, but she had a pretty good idea who had done this.

* * *

><p>"Hey Lucia, another surprise voice recording. Yeay!" Samson's recorded voice said again. "So I had this sappy love poem to read, but Locco ate it because he's stupid that way. So I'm just going to tell you all about you, because that's even better."<p>

Lucia put the ear buds into her ears and relaxed into her pillows with a grin on her face, Artemis snuggling up to her. No-dogs-on-the-bed rules were over with. She had Artemis' warm fur on her cheek and Samson's voice in her ears. All was well.

* * *

><p>She kept it in her bag all day, and they stopped by Starbucks after the last day of school to get their seasonal Peppermint hot chocolate, and they shared a cookie because Christmas presents had made them too poor to get two.<p>

"Hey, I got you something." Samson said.

"Really?" Lucia asked.

"Yeah. Here, open it." He said sliding something underneath her hands.

She felt it to try and guess what it was.

"You will never guess, just open it." He said.

She ripped the tissue paper and found a box.

"It's a fake box," Samson said. So she tore that apart and felt for the present, which must be quite small.

"Bracelet?" She guessed.

"Yup," Samson said.

"That's really sweet," she smiled. "Where are you?"

He directed her so that she could kiss him.

"It's got this one really random charm that I added, and that might make you think I'm weird-"

"Love you, but it didn't take a charm to make me think that." Lucia said.

"I'm making a face at you," he let her know. "-But it is Saint Lucia. And I know that you don't believe in Saints or whatnot, but Saint Lucia is the patron of the blind, so I found that funny."

Lucia laughed. "That's actually why I'm named Lucia. Except my dad didn't tell my mom the meaning until _after _I had the birth certification and all, so she was mad."

Samson laughed, and she put the bracelet on. She fingered the beads and he let her know when she had the charm between her fingers. It was made up of a series of link that looked like they were nearly folded in two.

She wished that she could be more excited and tell him how pretty it was, but she couldn't see it. And even if she could her definition of 'pretty' was mentally based on what people told her.

"I got you something too," she said reaching into her back. Artemis licked her hand, sniffing the new bracelet when she brought it under the table.

She gave Samson his present and he unwrapped it.

For a second he was quiet.

"My present is seriously a lollipop bigger than my face, three packs of gumballs, two chocolate bars and a pack of pineapple liquorice?"

"Yup," Lucia said.

"I love you so, so much."

* * *

><p>On New Year's he was her first phone call.<p>

He whined on the phone. "You woke me up."

"I woke you up? What? It's only 12:15. Wait, you didn't stay up?"

"No," Samson said.

"What are you, nine years old?"

"No; I am glorious."

Lucia laughed. "Happy New Year's," she said. Artemis barked. "From my dog too, apparently."

"Ditto," he said, obviously tired. "And to Artemis. Goodnight to you. And to Artemis."

"Ditto," she said hanging up. Artemis climbed onto her bed and cuddled up.

"Samson says goodnight," she said. Artemis barked and Lucia leaned her head against her. She got her cheeks licked but she was too tired to care much.

"Now _I'm _saying goodnight," she said dozing off.

* * *

><p>"Does my hair look okay?" She asked him.<p>

"Why would I know?" Samson replied.

She rephrased: "Do I have any chunks of hair missing from the ponytail?" She had to have it pulled up for judo tournaments. Even if this judo tournament was on Valentine's day and therefore should require nothing from people who would have other plans. Especially people-who-would-have-had-other-plans and whose boyfriends were sacrificing the day for hanging around a high school gym to watch blind people fight.

"Oh. No, no, it's fine." Samson said. She pulled on socks and sneakers and he was quiet, probably texting for a while. "Hey, Luce?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you even know how you look?" Samson asked.

"I don't know," she said. "Let me check in the mirror."

"Ha, ha," he said. "But seriously. Has nobody ever told you anything?"

"Nope," she said, lacing up her sneakers.

"Really? So… you really don't know how pretty you are?"

Lucia blushed. "No, I have no idea how I look."

"Oh," Samson said.

"Am I… Never mind."

"No, what is it? What were you going to say?"

"Am I really pretty?" She asked.

"You? Oh god, even for a blind person that's a stupid question." Samson said. "You're not pretty. You're beautiful. Your skin is on the pale side, and you're a really toned and athletic person. Your hair's the colour of coal and caramel because you've got these strands, and it's really curly. A bit frizzy, but really beautiful, and when you let it down it's all around your face. And your face is round, but it's also kind of strict at the same time… I don't know, it's just really pretty, and Katherine thought that you'd be a great model for her school projects. And your eyes are emerald green and they pop and it's amazing when you're not wearing sunglasses. And even when you are, because then your smile's the one that makes your face shine." He took a deep breath. "I think I've summed it up."

* * *

><p>The seasons rolled by. It was March now, a wet and temperamental season that was freezing one day, super warm the next or both in a day.<p>

Also the semester had changed back in January. She didn't have Samson in any classes anymore, but she, Ruya and Theia had computer class together.

* * *

><p>She was going around the mall with Ruya and Theia, and they'd lost track of time. Lucia had to be out by the entrance near the Zellers for Mom to pick her up, like, right then; but they were in line for smoothies.<p>

"Okay, you go wait for her," Ruya said. "We'll meet you there once Theia's got her energy-vitamin-boost-with-calcium thing. If you're not there we'll assume that your mom picked you up."

Mom had said to wait at the door near the Zellers, and so that's the direction she pointed Artemis to.

Malls were always more challenging. People kept moving, and sometimes they ran and people kept calling to each other so Lucia always thought that she was hearing her name which confused her.

And it took longer because she always took the elevator when she was with Artemis. Stairs were not her friend, and escalators were death traps when you didn't know when the steps would raise under your feet.

Also; people didn't know how to act with blind people. So everyone kept asking her if she needed help or directions. And then she'd say no thank you. Or they'd ask if they could pet her dog. No, she's busy, I kind-of need her to be focused so that I don't crash into things.

Except she knew the floor plan pretty well, so finding the Zellers while she was at another entrance on the first floor was easy.

She waited by the entrance, leaning against a cement column.

That's when she heard a familiar laugh.

Lucia had a freaking amazing auditory memory, and she'd heard it loads of time.

Then she recognised his voice, and smiled.

"I love you," he said.

She nearly responded but it sounded faraway. Besides; Samson never just talked to her without announcing himself when they were in places where she wouldn't expect to hear him.

"I love you too," someone replied. A sweet voice that she recognised as well, from running around a track.

"I love you more," Samson said.

Lucia's voice chilled.

"Excuse me?" She asked to nobody in particular.

"Are you talking to me?" Someone asked.

"Yes, please." She said, going with it. "Can you just… tell me what the young couple over there looks like?"

The guy was quiet for a second and Lucia was scared that he'd walked off. But no; usually people were happy, if not too shy to deny, helping someone who was blind.

He described a girl, and for all Lucia knew it was the opposite of Abby.

Then he described the guy.

"He's got curly hair. Small nose. Brown eyes. Low cheekbones. Average height."

"Oh," Lucia said. Her stomach sunk. "Thank you…"

"You okay?" A guy said. "Do you need a ride or something?"

"No, I'm fine." Lucia said. "Thank you…"

_I guess. _

Okay; her final chance; the last shot.

"Artemis," she said. "Go to Samson."

And to her downright horror, Artemis walked off towards the voice.

She heard a gasp and the sound of shuffling feet.

"Samson?" She asked.

"Hi Lucia," he said brightly. He walked up to her and hugged her. She pushed him away.

"Why are you here?" She asked.

"Just at the mall on a weekend. Luca needed something and he had rehab today. I hadn't seen some of the guys in a while."

"Really?" Lucia said. Her anger flared. It was definitely Samson. She didn't see his face, but he was lying right to hers. She knew it. He was just using the fact that she didn't see him doing- oh god, what had he been doing? Kissing her? Holding her hand? He was using the fact that she couldn't see him as an advantage.

"So why in the goddamn world is Abby Shaw with you and why in the goddamn world are you telling her that you _love her?" _

"What?" He said. "Lucia, you must've misheard…"

"Oh your nerve!" Lucia said. "I'm blind, not stupid. I know what I heard!"

"Lucia, you've got it wrong…"

"DON'T!" Lucia said. "You're lying to my face because I can't see it going on! Because I can't see the girl you're cheating on me with right next to you or wherever the hell she is!" She was nearly screaming now. "I asked someone! I asked a freaking _stranger _and he described your faces to me."

Abbey swore.

"What happened to us being a couple? What happened to that? What happened to me _trusting _you? What happened to seeing each other without sight? That was your joke- what happened to it?"

"Obviously you didn't see someone really well." Abby's voice said protectively.

"Be quiet, Abby. Go to hell while you're at it," Lucia said. "And bring Samson with you."

"Luce!" Someone said. This time it was Ruya and Theia. Someone touched her arm and the skin was so soft it had to be Theia.

"What the fuck is going on?" Ruya asked. The swearing was out. Ruya was nervous or aggravated and things were going to go downhill. "Why are you crying? Samson what's up with your face? Abby, why are you here?"

"I don't know," Lucia said. "Because I can't see. And apparently there's a lot I've been _not _seeing."

"You don't mean…" Ruya said. "Holly shit. Holly shit."

Lucia couldn't feel her eyes prickling or whatever the cue for crying was, but she felt her cheeks get wet. Someone put their arm around her. She was pretty sure it was Theia.

"Luce, don't cry," Samson said. "I-"

"Shut up." Ruya said. "You've done enough."

"You have no idea what it's like being a blind person's boyfriend." Samson said, his voice getting louder.

"Of course, I only know how it is to be a freaking _blind _person!" Lucia said before Ruya or Theia could talk. "What exactly is the hardship? Not getting complimented on your looks all the time? Do people look at you awkwardly? Do you hate telling me when it's safe to cross the street so much? I thought I could trust you not to care about those things!"

"No- of course not, I-"

"I had to freaking _fight _to be allowed to see someone this year, and out everyone, I picked you." Lucia said.

"You wouldn't have had anybody to pick from if it weren't me!" Samson said.

"Yes I would have!" Lucia said. "Because even if I can't see it, I am a beautiful person! You told me yourself, you described it to me, you showed me that I was a good person! And I'm not a cheater!"

She finally broke down as the word came out of her mouth. Finally. The cold hard truth.

"Hey, don't just dish it all out on me!" Samson said. "She knew!"

_You better be pointing at Abbey. _Lucia thought.

"Theia? No fucking way." Ruya said.

"Thei?" Lucia asked, snapping her head in her direction.

"Oh my God," Theia breathed out fast.

"Oh the drama," Ruya sighed, sounding exhausted.

"You _knew?"_ Lucia said. She pushed her arm off.

"You knew?" Ruya said. "Why the fuck did you know?"

"I…" Theia said. "I saw them this one time. Outside of school, at the park… And again at the dance…"

"You were hooking up with Abbey at the dance?"

"It just kind-of happened," Samson said. "We didn't plan it…"

She turned back to Theia. "You knew?" Lucia said. "And you just didn't tell me?"

"I'm sorry," Theia said, squirming. "He told me not to and…"

"And what?" Lucia asked.

"And I didn't want you to have to break up with him because I knew it'd hurt and…"

"So you just lied? That doesn't make you any better than him!" Lucia said.

"Luce-" Theia said.

"What else would you guys like to tell me? Is the sky actually red? Does someone follow me around doing bunny ears behind my head all the time?"

Lucia was royally pissed.

"You're just so _needy _Lucia." Samson said.

He probably would've added more, but someone slapped someone else.

"This is because she doesn't want to try slapping you and miss your face," Ruya hissed. "Don't you ever call Lucia Addario needy, and don't you ever talk to her again, and don't you ever bully Theia."

Ruya collected Lucia in her arms, and she told Artemis to go and for some reason her guide dog listened to someone else. Lucia was thankful.

"No, you stay here." Ruya said sharply. Lucia was pretty sure that Theia was on the receiving end of that.

And it broke her heart more that she didn't care.

* * *

><p>There was a knock on her door.<p>

"Luce, it's Mom." She said.

"Come in," Lucia said. She was lying on her bed being depressed. She'd just broken up. Considering that she was your average and typical YA fiction lead female, this was the logical thing for her to do.

She sat down on her bed and touched her legs. Lucia's arms curled around Artemis tighter.

"I'm sorry," Mom said. "It's really sad when something goes out like this, hmm?"

_No mom, I'm happy. I am positively glowing with joy. _

"Yeah," she said.

"I was scared that this would happen," her mom sighed.

"Stop it, Mom," Lucia said sitting up, scaring Artemis. "Stop it. You weren't afraid that this would happen because of Samson. You were just afraid that the whole wide world was going to eat me up and throw back the bones! There was…" she choked. "No way of knowing that he'd do this. Just like there's no way to know if I'm going to get hurt at a judo tournament. No way to know if I'm going to trip on the sidewalk. You just can't deal with the fact that bad things might happen to me and you're using my crappy eyes as an excuse- but guess what? Bad things happen to _everyone." _

"Lucia Addario- do not talk to me that way." Her mother said.

"Well don't treat me that way either," Lucia said. "Then we might have ourselves a deal."

* * *

><p>She was in the hallway after school, getting her things from her locker. She hadn't talked to Theia today, she hadn't talked to Samson or Abbey, she'd never felt more alone. Ruya had tried to make up for it; she'd hung out with Ruya and Dave all day. But Ruya was only one thing: Ruya.<p>

"Lucia," someone said. She turned around to face the voice.

"Samson?" She asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"What do you want?" She said.

"I just wanted to let you know that tomorrow I'm switching spots in math. Hassan's gonna be next to you."

"How thoughtful of you," she said. "I couldn't care less. I much rather have Hassan sit next to me than you."

"What is your problem?" Samson said. "Okay, yeah, I cheated on you- but now you're all vicious."

BAM, he pulled the trigger and the Luce-bullet was heading for his chest.

"My problem is that you're not sorry!" Lucia shouted back at him. "My problem is that I trusted you guys as my eyes because mine are crappy. I trust more than a friend usually trusts her friends, or a girl usually trusts her boyfriend. Because guess what? I _have _to. I don't have a choice. There are some things I just _can't do _because I'm blind and sometimes I_ do_ need help. I'm always going to have to trust cashiers not to overcharge me, trust strangers when I ask if the light is green, trust my friends when I ask if something looks good on me, trust Artemis to guide me around… And I trusted you. This is what happens? This is how it finishes?"

"Sure looks like it." Samson said. "And if you want me to be sorry; fine. I'm sorry that I wasted all these months. I'm sorry that-"

Lucia heard a growl, Artemis' harness was nearly pulled from her hand, and she heard Samson shout.

"Get your stupid dog off my leg!" Samson yelled.

"Artemis!" Lucia said, pulling the harness. "Down! Down!"

She grabbed Artemis by the collar and pulled away from Samson.

"Bad girl," she said. "You're not allowed to bite."

Artemis didn't whimper or anything. It was a bit like Lucia, she wasn't sorry that her dog had done it.

Mr Bellandini voice came out.

"What in the world is going on here? Samson- are you okay?"

* * *

><p>She curled up in bed alone.<p>

Artemis had been taken in by an animal behaviourist, and she stayed at a special center. She had for a week. She wasn't allowed to bite. No dogs were allowed to bite of course, but service dogs were supposed to never, _ever _bite.

She'd made her appeal that Samson had been yelling at her and that Artemis knew that he'd hurt her. Extreme provocation of a guide dog _could _be a justifying point in rare occasions, but Samson hadn't actually hit her so Lucia didn't know if it'd be enough. But if Artemis passed her examination, she'd be back to being Lucia's guide dog. For now; she wasn't.

There'd been some legal stuff. But since Samson's parents were cool that way and that the bite wasn't very serious, they had said that they weren't suing provided that Artemis was up-to-date on her shots, which she was. Lucia also thought that Luca and Katherine had probably had something to do with it. She'd heard from Ruya that Samson had gotten chewed out for cheating on her.

The school on the other hand; _that _was a different story.

The school had called an ambulance, more out of protocol than out of necessity considering Artemis hadn't bit her that hard. Since Artemis was calm, Lucia had been allowed to keep her as long as she was on a harness. And not long after, Lucia's mom had arrived and they'd said that no matter what had happened before, Artemis was no longer allowed to come to school with Lucia. Which was a painfully big and hard pill to swallow.

So long story short: even if Lucia did get to keep Artemis, she wouldn't be allowed to have her half of the time.

And then there was the issue of Mom and Dad, who weren't sure if Artemis was a reliable dog anymore.

"Blind people get yelled at by idiots on the street all the time," Mom said. "If Artemis can't handle that…"

Lucia knew her dog. Artemis had bitten Samson because he was Samson and because of what he'd done. She wasn't a dangerous or vicious dog. She was Lucia's eyes, her real eyes, the eyes that wouldn't betray her. She was just doing her job, and that job was protecting Lucia.

And now she was in trouble for it and Lucia might lose her and she might be put down.

Lucia was tired of it all.

She was tired of hearing Samson's name everywhere. She was tired of trusting the wrong people and being terrified that if Artemis was taken for her she'd have to do it again. She was sick of having her parents having the power to sign her up or not to sign her up for archery or to take Artemis from her or not. She was sick and tired of being blind.

"I wish Artemis were here," she said out loud.

The air in her room suddenly got colder.

"You called, Lucia?" Someone said.

Lucia turned towards the voice.

"Oh my God, who are you?"

"My name is Artemis," the voice said. "But not your dog. The real Artemis. The first Artemis. And I have an offer for you."

* * *

><p><em>Twelve months later<em>

"More to the right," Garcia whispered in her ear. Lucia adjusted her aim. "More to the left." Lucia complied.

Stephanie had become her 'spotter', whispering in her ear where to aim.

The Hunters had made it incredibly easy for Lucia to live with them. They always set up their camp in the same way, so that was easy. There was always someone tending to the fire, so Lucia had only fallen in it once when she was new. They'd helped her train so that she could shoot a growling monster based on sound and guess work alone. She had her folding cane to feel for firewood when it was her turn to collect (though she had spent ten minutes tugging on a root before Thalia had taken pity on her). She was good at traveling with them without being tethered to anybody too, and only once had she gotten lost in a forest.

"Perfect," Garcia whispered again. "Anytime you're ready."

Lucia let the arrow soar across the sky.

"You got it!" Garcia said.

There was an enthusiastic barking sound.

This was one of the best things the Hunters had done for her. Well, Lady Artemis in particular.

She'd gotten Artemis back to Lucia once she'd sworn the oath. And around the goddess of the hunt, it seemed that Artemis (dog) had thrived. She would go to any of the hunters if Lucia ask, and find camp if she and Lucia were in a remote forest part. Always. Also her fetching talents had gotten out of proportionally good, tracking arrows gone astray and birds shot out of the sky.

But above all; she was still man's best friend. Well, hunter's best friend. Blind hunter's best friend.

* * *

><p><strong>Next<strong>

"Don't you dare," Zoey said, swatting something invisible away with her hand. "Don't you try to charmspeak me."

"Zo," her sister begged. "Estella and Scarlett are getting impatient. They will kick you out if you don't do it. Please. You've got to do this."

"What if I rather get kicked out?" Zoey said.

"No, you don't." She said. The charmspeak was sweet and soothing and inviting and Zoey nearly let herself get swallowed by it.

No. She was not some lost sailor washing up at Siren's cove.

Drew knew that Zoey was resisting; knew Zoey well enough. "Please," she said. "I can't lose you too."


	16. Zoé LéviPaquette

**Anyways, the last chapter got some exceptional reviews! I was so happy, it was definitely worth all the work I stuck into it. I hope this chapter is too :) **

**Okay: many people asked about how everyone reacted once Lucia was declared a missing person.**

**Ruya knew that Lucia was joining a group of girls and running off. She never told anyone. She and Theia eventually restored their bond. Since Lucia is physically disabled, the police searched for her nearly right away when her parents reported her as a runaway. When Artemis (dog) was reported as missing, they all got suspicious. They looked for a long time, but never found her. Like most hunters eventually do, Lucia got in touch at some point explained what was going on to her parents. They called the police again, but Lucia was never found. **

**Because of all the reviews and questions and feels, if you posted an anonymous review it'll be answered right here. Skip if you wish.**

**Wonderstruck Pen- :D Thank you very much.**

**Hunter- O_O That's a lot of feels.**

**Guest- I guess it would have been cool. And then Artemis goes missing too and everyone's like 'AHNO'**

**Guest- I use the font Plantagenet Cherokee, size 12 (sometimes 11, but mostly 12). Margins are normal, so 2,54 cm all around. Spacing is normal. **

** Disclaimer: Me no own**

* * *

><p><span>Zoé Levi-Paquette<span>

_August 2009 _

"Hey," someone said. Zoey looked over her shoulder and saw Jake Mason, which was weird. Not Jake, Jake was nice and all and; she was well used to being around sons and daughters of Hephaestus by now. Just… she didn't usually see him unless Beckendorf and Silena were using their veto right as senior counsellors to bring the cabins together.

"Hi," Zoey replied. She especially hadn't thought that Jake would still talk to her after the news about Si being the spy…

Zoey had a lot of trouble wrapping her mind around that. Silena and she had been more than sisters. They'd been friends. Good, good friends. She'd have called Silena her sister even if they weren't both daughters of Aphrodite. Si, Drew and she were the Eggroll Sisters. If you were going to name yourself after a kind of fast food, you knew it was for real.

That said; of course it made sense to Zoey that Silena would pursue her work as a spy if it could save him. Of course she would, she'd have done anything to save her Charlie. She was brave in her own way like that.

"I'm sorry about…" He nudged his head towards the middle of the arena, where a hot pink shroud had just went up in smoke.

"Yeah. I'm sorry too. Beckendorf was an amazing guy."

Jake nodded. "I know he'd want me to be counsellor and everything, but I just… I can't do it. After having a senior counsellor like _that, _what am I supposed to do?"

"I hear you," Zoey said. "But you'll do great, Jake. You're a nice guy."

Jake shrugged. Zoey instantly felt bad. She wanted to make him feel better, but she wasn't quite sure how.

"Hey, let's go grab some hot chocolate, okay?" Zoey said. "It's been a long day; I think we both need it."

Jake nodded and smiled. "I'd like that."

* * *

><p>It took a while for things to go back to normal in the Aphrodite cabin.<p>

Zoey did her best, of course. She kept her cabin mates busy. She'd put up a curtain over Silena's old bunk in honour of their sister. She did her best to bring up fresh gossip. Drew was fairly supportive, too.

They were both sitting by the canoe lake, their feet dipped up to the ankles in the water.

"I'll redo your toes tonight," Zoey offered.

"They need to be redone?" Drew asked taking her feet out of the water for examination.

"The nail polish is all cracked," Zoey said.

"Geez," Drew shook her head and said sarcastically; "Fight Titans, see bloodshed, _and _get your nails messed up?"

Zoey smirked. "It's been a long week."

Drew put her feet back in the water and lied down on the dock. "I miss her."

"I know," Zoey said, taking Drew's hand. She was talking about Silena, of course. "Me too. Everyone does. And I don't feel like I'm doing enough."

"What more could you do?" Drew asked her. "You're beating yourself up, Zo."

"Maybe," she admitted.

"Maybe? No, you _are." _Drew said. "I suggest we watch a bad movie and eat junk food tonight to fix it."

"Yes," Zoey said. "Yeah, I think that'd help everyone."

"I was thinking more about _your _mental health, but I suppose that's true."

* * *

><p>Zoey snuck into the forges.<p>

This was totally new territory to her, but she really needed to find Jake.

The whole place reeked. The smell of metal and of an underground parking lot basically, except so much was happening that it made up for everything- even if only 4 children of Hephaestus were around camp.

Towers of gears were spinning on their own, machines were being set off on their own, tools were working on their own, and the cacophonic collection of noise was _fantastic_… The other senses were so entertained, it made up for the screeching nose.

"Hello? How can I help you?" Someone asked. She turned her head so fast she nearly got a whiplash and saw Nyssa.

"Oh, hi," she said. "I'm looking for Jake."

"Jake's busy at the moment, can I take a message?" She said sounding unimpressed.

"Just… tell him I need his advice."

"On what?" Nyssa asked as if the idea of Jake handing out advice was ridiculous.

"Very funny Nyssa," Jake said. He smashed his hand over her face as she walked up to them. Nyssa swatted it away, motor oil on her nose, cheek and forehead now.

"Hey, Zo, what's up?" He said.

Nyssa wandered off after Zoey shot her a telling look.

"I need help," she said. "My whole cabin's like… having a Silena hangover."

"A Silena hangover?" Jake asked.

"Right," Zoey said. "Like, we watched the most classically sappy movie last night. Usually that just makes up for everything that's going wrong for at least 94 minutes. But everyone had their mood down to their ankles."

"Their mood in their ankles?" Jake asked.

"What? It's an expression!" Zoey said. She sighed. "Anyway, I need help. We know that Silena was the traitor, but she did it out of love, and she _was _our sister. Help?"

Jake looked at her for a second. "You look so helpless… Okay."

They sat down on a work table after Jake pushed a toolbox and a miniature version of the Trojan horse.

"There are only four of us left in my cabin," Jake said. "It's harder on Nyssa 'cause she's the only girl." _Oh my God poor child, _Zoey thought, "and Harley's having a lot of trouble because, well, he's eight and Beckendorf is his hero. We didn't really… Well, we emptied out his bed and sent his stuff back to his Mom."

"Done," Zoey said.

"The thing is; it helped us more because we children of Hephaestus love our trinkets. A little known fact about B is that he kept a lot of his inventions secret and under his bed. It kind-of made us realise what an awesome bro we had and how great his mind was." Jake said.

"I kind-of doubt that that'll work for us," Zoey said.

"Yeah, me too… I don't know. Children of Aphrodite talk more. Maybe talking more will help." Jake said. "I know it's especially hard for you. You were close right? You, Silena and Drew."

Zoey nodded, "We were."

"I remember that on Halloween when the whole camp dressed up you were a serial killer and they were your victims. Blood everywhere on your faces, you all looked like you'd dived into the meat grinder… It was cool." Jake said.

Zoey smiled, "Thanks. That was Drew's idea. I guess it makes sense now why Silena made me be the killer instead of her."

"Yeah," Jake said.

"What's hard is that I try to be mad at her, but I can't be." Zoey said. "Like, she betrayed Camp, which includes Drew and I and everyone_, _and she got people hurt and killed… but I can't be mad at her. Because I know she didn't want to do it. I know she regretted it and at the end she got killed as she knew she would."

Jake nodded. "I'm mad at her. A bit. Not really, though. I want to detest her even if I liked her fine whenever Beckendorf brought her to the forges. But I…I don't know. I don't think I would have done any better if I'd been her."

"You'd have done the right thing," Zoey said. "You're a good guy."

Jake nodded absent-mindedly. "I guess the really twisted part of that is that I'm mad with Beckendorf."

"With Beckendorf?" Zoey frowned.

"Yeah," Jake nodded. "I'm mad that he died. I know he's a hero and that he did the right thing, and I'm proud of him for that. But I'm mad that he's not here anymore and I'm mad that I'm stuck being counsellor, and I guess that since being mad at fate isn't satisfying, I just default to being mad at him."

Zoey put a hand on his.

"You're allowed to feel this stuff," she said. "Everyone's allowed to feel what they feel. It makes us human. Even if in the particular case of you and me we're only half-human."

The Trojan horse's belly suddenly opened up. A rope ladder fell down and tiny soldiers the size of Zoey's index climbed down and charged towards them. They climbed over Zoey's thighs as if she were a mountain to conquer.

"Oh," Jake said. "Sorry. That's just a toy I made."

"That's really cool," Zoey said, not daring to move because she didn't want to make the tiny soldiers topple.

Jake jumped off the table and pointed at the soldiers; some of them were warriors who'd actually been in Troy- Odysseus, Menelaus, Agamemnon; the list went on.

Finally when the last soldier had crossed over Zoey's laps and back on the table, Jake swept them all down with a move of his arm and put them in a steel box with a lid.

"The problem is turning them off. There's always a quirk with the inventions we make nowadays."

"It'll pass," Zoey said.

"Hopefully," Jake said. "I nearly lost my arm the other day."

"What?" Zoey asked, shocked, her voice nearly a snap. "How did you do that?"

And so they kept talking…

* * *

><p>They were all sitting down in the middle of the Aphrodite cabin, in an awkward lumpy circle. Zoey was calling this group therapy in her head. Out loud she was calling it 'Cabin meeting'.<p>

Lacy looked close to tears already, and Delia was holding her.

They'd just gone around the circle to say stuff about Silena that they'd miss and if they were mad or not. Generally; nobody was mad.

"Look, Silena died guilty," Zoey said, "But she... she knows that we'll never forget her. And we know we'll never forget her. But she'd still want us to be happy. That was what Silena was about, right? Being happy, always smiling, being loving… she wouldn't want us to be sad. She's been dead for nearly a month."

That made a few people shiver and choke. Mitchell squeezed Zoey's hand. It was weird how she was older by two years, but Mitchell always seemed to be taking care of her and making sure she was okay and holding her hand… Little brothers, eh?

"I think that we should start doing new things," Zoey said. "New things to get our minds off the Titan war. I mean, not everyone was here when Silena died," she said waving her hand to Cathleen, Chase and Spencer. "And it's not fair to them not to see how fun Camp Half-Blood can be, and how much more fun than the rest the Aphrodite cabin can be."

"Like what?" Francesca asked.

"The Rite of Passage," Estella said.

Zoey looked at her.

"Really?" Zoey asked.

"Of course," Estella said. "It's a tradition the Aphrodite cabin's been practising for hundreds of years."

"What's that?" Cathleen asked.

"It's a rite that was written and started in the eighteenth century," Zoey said coldly. "It's always happened. It was stopped last year."

"Hey, if you want to get this cabin back into shape, we might as well resort to our greatest traditions. With the original rules, yes? That's what you wanted after all, Zoey." Scarlett, Estella's shadow, said.

The cabin's inhabitants all looked up at Zoey expectantly, and suddenly she had no idea what in the world she should do.

"Besides; the last person who refused to do it was Silena, and look how that ended." Scarlett said.

Zoey frowned. Was it just her or should a human being sound sadder while saying those words?

People seemed to get smaller, and they agreed.

"I… Well, that should be a cabin decision, I guess." Zoey said. "Who votes yes?"

Scarlett's comment seemed to be scary enough for most of her siblings to raise their hand.

"Great," Zoey said. Now that that was decided. "But I was actually thinking more of an activity that is not breaking people's hearts, so does anybody else have another idea?"

They settled on canoeing because Delia made the point that "boys in bathing suits hang out around the canoe lake _all the time", _and watching at least one old movie a week.

* * *

><p>Drew and Zoey were standing on the sides of the basketball court, getting flirted with by the sons of Apollo. They never stopped. Ever. It was ridiculous.<p>

"So then even if my leg's bloody from about here to hear," a guy called Ben said, tracing a line from the outside of his ankle to his thigh, "I ask for another question, and I'm crossing my fingers that this time I know the answer because if I flunk one more time that's it, I'm done for. This Sphinx seriously does _not _want me to get out of that school, but she's got to comply with this request. And so she asked me what the brightest shining star in the Milky Way is."

"And you got _that _answer?" Drew asked.

"Of course," Ben said. "I replied 'Drew Takana'."

Zoey nearly laughed. She'd been so sure that he was just using a strong battle story to boast and show off to the two daughters of Aphrodite who'd just so happened to be hanging around, but it was just a pickup line.

"And what did the Sphinx say?" Drew asked. Zoey knew that the look she was giving now was usually a killer for boys. Drew was a shameless (and gifted) flirt.

Ben tilted his head to his side, like, 'meh'. "She was forced to accept."

"Hmm," Drew smiled. "And what happened to your leg?"

"The Sphinx was so impressed with me she healed it," Ben said.

Zoey met Will Solace's eyes and they rolled them in unison. Zoey would never flirt with Will. He was an ex. She had one rule when it came to boys: she did not redo old relationships. It was like rereading a book; the experience and understanding might be different, but the ending was the same (and since Will had kind-of totally smashed her heart into itty-bitty bits, she wasn't going to do that one again).

Also if they smelled like Axe was their body wash and their pants were at their knees, they were not good choices (this was the rule that her Papa agreed with the most).

Another son of Apollo joined them, except this was a totally innocent thirteen year old named Smith who just wanted someone to play basketball with him since his brothers had deserted him to play another game.

Zoey accepted to be kind (also because Lacy had a crush on this boy).

"Can you even shoot?" Will asked as she walked onto the court.

Zoey held her hands open, asking for the ball. Once she had it in her hands, she bounced it off Will's face scaring the Styx out of him and shot towards the hoop. It went right in.

Smith caught it and Zoey poked Will on the shoulder.

"Ex-captain of the Girl's 7-8 Basketball team," she said. "Just because my nails are longer than your brain doesn't mean I can't play."

This was true in both ways. 1) Will Solace was not known for his intelligence, 2) she had the hottest and best kept nails of Camp Half-Blood. Right now they were black with gold glitter at the tips.

"Oh, okay," Will said throwing his hands up. "So you think you're better than me?"

"Please, Drew and I could cream your butt so bad, it'd look like creamed corn." Zoey said.

"Is that a threat, Pretty Girl?"

"Do I even need to say that it's a promise, or is that too cliché line predictable?" Zoey said. She looked over her shoulder. "Hey, Drew. Get over here."

Drew looked over Ben's shoulder eyeing Zoey like _busy, _but Zoey looked at her like _now. _And so Drew got on the court. Smith got all shy and said 'never mind' and left, and so Will called over Jake Mason, who was just lounging around the court and going over a plan with Nyssa. It probably had something to do with the Bronze Dragon.

Jake got up and they played half a game of basketball. Except Drew and Jake didn't know how to play basketball that well, so Drew just got vicious with her nails to get the ball and then passed it to Zoey.

After a while Jake caught on and it became a vibrant goal in the depths of his soul to go after Zoey and lean over her with his huge forge-muscled body to stop her from doing anything.

"Will you quit it?" Zoey said after a while.

"No, man. I can't let Will know that I can't play basketball. His friendship's valuable to me."

Zoey laughed and tried to lunge under his right arm- upon which the right arm caught her from behind and picked her up. Zoey screamed.

"What are you doing?" She demanded. "Jake Mason- you better put me down!"

"No, the asphalt is hard," Jake said. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"Jake!" She said. Drew had stopped trying to scratch out Will's eyes and they were both watching, dumbfound.

"Jake Mason, I will cut you!" She said.

"With what?"

"My nails!" She said.

"Nope, don't want to lose this game. Will, keep shooting hoops."

So Zoey eventually stopped protesting because she was laughing so much, and Drew eventually stopped too because she was hopeless at basketball, which made Will laugh _so_ hard that he kept missing open shots and swearing at himself and getting teased by Drew…

Finally Jake started laughing and so he put Zoey down so that he didn't end up dropping her. She crumpled onto the asphalt, lying there on her back and laughing like crazy.

* * *

><p>Whenever Drew was in the shower, the whole cabin shut up.<p>

Why? Because Drew had the most beautiful voice in the world. And it could literally sing anything and everything- high, low, deep, fluffy music…

Zoey was helping Delia with her nails, and Delia's bunk was right next to the bathroom. Drew was going through her Wicked phase (again. It came and went about three times a year).

"Too late to go back to sleep

It's time to trust my instincts

Close my eyes: and leap!  
>It's time to try Defying gravity<p>

I think I'll try Defying gravity

And you can't pull me down!"

Zoey popped up from the chair opened the bathroom door a bit and sung back (in a much less nice voice);

"Can't I make you understand?

You're having illusions of grandeur?"

Drew started laughing from inside the shower.

* * *

><p>She had Drew's foot on her lap.<p>

"You're tickling me," Drew said.

"Stop. Moving." Zoey said.

"It tickles!" Drew said. "You know my feet are ticklish!"

"Yeah, yeah," Zoey said, focused on the little designs she was painting on Drew's nails. Frames of the faces of Fairy Odd Parent characters- Poof, Timmy, Wanda, and she was now doing Cosmo.

"I've never ever seen this show," Drew said.

"Is it my fault you were an uncultured child?" Zoey said. "No. So stop it. You've already got SpongeBob on the other foot; it'll look stupid if I don't finish. And will you stop whining or what?"

"Sorry," Drew laughed. "Why don't you do Mitchell's nails or something?"

"Ugh- because he's not seven anymore and he thinks he's too _manly_." Zoey said.

"He never wears sandals, nobody would know." Drew said.

"My point exactly! But does Mitch listen to me? No. Is Papa on my side for this? Also a no."

"Wow, hard life." Drew said sarcastically.

"I would hit you right now but that'd make you move," Zoey said.

"Can we get something sugary after this? I want sugar. Like; _really badly_," Drew said.

"Yes, now shut up. I had to write the show's logo now. That's the hardest part." Zoey said. "Sing or something. But not Wicked."

Drew went with The Lion King.

* * *

><p>She went to go see Jake again.<p>

Nyssa saw her and called for Jake right away. He took a look at her face and then brought her to a work table in the back, where a giant empty place used to be where the Bronze Dragon lived.

"Have you guys found him yet?" Zoey asked.

"No," Jake said sadly. "Nobody's seen him anywhere. Not in the woods, not in the forest, not outside the borders… But that's not why you're here."

Zoey sighed. "It's Si's birthday today."

"Oh," Jake said. "She'd be 18, right? Of course, she was Beckendorf's age."

"Right," Zoey said. "September 1st…"

"I'm sorry, Zo." Jake said.

"It's kind of silly, but usually today we'd have picked her up in the night, put her in a canoe and sent her off into the lake. We always do this when someone turns eighteen. And since it's Silena we'd have hung all her clothes in the trees."

"It's thinking of these things that would've/might've happened that suck, right?" Jake said.

"Yeah," Zoey nodded. "And everyone's sad and I'm the counsellor so I'm supposed to make them feel better, but I feel sad myself so I don't know…" She said, dropping her face into her hands.

"Hey, you're not supposed to have the weight of the world on your shoulders here," Jake said. "You told me that once; we're allowed to feel the things we feel. Well, you're a person so you've got those rights too. It's a need, isn't it?"

"I guess," Zoey said looking at the ground through spread fingers.

For a second Jake didn't say anything, and then he told her that her nails were pretty. They were all a different fruit- kiwi, watermelon, lemon… She said thank you, but had the duh-moment that came with knowing what her nails were like, but still raising her head to look at them.

"There- I got your head up," he said proudly. "So stop thinking that you've got to make everyone feel better. Let's go do something fun," Jake said getting off the table.

"Like what?" Zoey asked.

Jake thought for a second, and then climbed on top of a ladder leaning across the wall. She watched him, hoping to all the gods on her list that he wouldn't fall, and when he hoped down again he was holding something made out of red paper and gold string and tiny bows.

"Let's go fly a kite," Jake said.

"Fly a kite?"

"Sure," Jake said. "I mean, come on, you _know _how to fly a kite, right?"

"I grew up in Brooklyn." Zoey said.

"Yeah, but you know how to fly a kite, right?" Jake said. "I mean, you have to. That's a life skill."

"No it's not," Zoey said.

"Then why are you so chicken to come out and learn?" Jake said holding out his hand.

Zoey took it and he led her to the center green to fly the apparently top-notch aerodynamic smart-built kite.

And Zoey really did feel better.

* * *

><p>Zoey walked into the cabin, where her cabin mates were getting ready for bed. After the campfire was the only time they were all together.<p>

"Guys, I have an idea." She said.

"RUN!" Mitchell said from the boy's side. The brothers snickered but Zoey shut them up with a look.

"I think that we should do something for Silena's birthday. You know, to remember and celebrate her."

"I'm in," Drew said curiously.

"I think that we should put flowers in the lake, one for each person she saved during the Titan War, and that includes Camp's new recruits." Zoey said. Being out with Jake had given her the idea. They'd been flying a kite –a little thing, but it'd made her feel so much better. "But not just any flower," she said. "Silena's favourite."

"That'd be a daisy," Drew said. The flower Beckendorf used to get her all the time since his only alternative was a metal bouquet and he wanted to be classy.

"Exactly," Zoey said. "Which commemorates Beckendorf too. So I asked Chiron and we have 150 kids at camp right now. So we're going to have to go pick 150 daisies _right now_."

"It's dark," Scarlett said.

Zoey raised a plastic bag. "I talked to Jake and searched the cabin. We have twenty flashlights. We can do this. Who's with me?"

The curtain separating the girl's side from the boy's side was pulled and a surprising amount of campers either changed out of pyjamas or pulled on their sneakers and a hoody since the nights got cool at camp.

So there was the Aphrodite cabin, in the dark, "looking like lunatics" as Estella pointed out, picking daisies. Once they got 150 (it was about 10:00 PM) they broke off the stems and placed them on the water one by one. The flowers floated off, kids tracking a particular one with the beams of their flashlight.

It was very serene, even if Zoey knew that a bunch of kids in various mixes of PJ's and clothes with flashlights and plastic bags had been the ones to do this. Looking at all the flowers made her realise how far a sacrifice went. A sacrifice was one person for one hundred and fifty others. And whether that was a fair exchange or not all depended on you and how you saw it and what that one person had meant to you.

Zoey had thought of it long and hard. For the greater good Si's sacrifice had been necessary. The 150 kids sleeping in the cabins or standing by the lake would either be dead, have been killed by the Titan army they'd been loyal to, or would never have made it to camp at all and died in the upcoming apocalypse.

But even Silena's very nature made the sacrifice necessary. Silena believed in making everyone's day a little more beautiful, whether it was smiling, complimenting, picking flowers, laughing, making jokes, singing, talking to people who were lonely… And so of course she'd have wanted this Camp to survive and the beautiful people in all these beautiful cabins to keep putting beauty in people's beautiful lives.

So for the first time, because of Jake's simple-things ideology, Zoey felt really okay about Silena being dead.

And she hoped that all of the other siblings who huddled with her were feeling the same thing, or on their way to it.

* * *

><p>Zoey was just dressed when the conch horns were sounded, her hands freezing mid-air as she put on button ear rings. She heard a roar.<p>

She grabbed her sword from her bunk. Most of her siblings were already up.

"Aphrodite cabin, let's go, wake up!" She said. She ran to the door and looked out to see that the Bronze dragon itself was standing in the middle of the Center Green, roaring and raging. A few Hephaestus campers were present, throwing ropes over him to try and keep him down, but they were struggling.

"Guys, it's the dragon!" She told her cabin. "We've got to go help Cabin 9!"

"The dragon's not our problem are you crazy?" Estella said. "We'll get eaten!"

Zoey turned and said rather harshly; "It'll be our problem if demigods get killed right outside our door! You have no right to ignore someone in need! Stay here. I'll deal with you later."

The Aphrodite cabin joined in just as Jake was yelling at the Ares cabin not to hurt the dragon.

"It's a freaking dragon!" Clarisse yelled back. "We HAVE to!"

Clarisse had a problem with dragons. Zoey shivered and remembered Silena's death. She had problems with them too.

Then it made her think about how Silena had completely ignored the Eggroll sisters after Beckendorf had died and had stuck with Clarisse. She hadn't wanted them to figure it out.

"Listen to Jake, he knows what he's doing!" Zoey yelled out. She looked over her shoulder, trying to tell Drew to charmspeak it. Drew was too busy following the dragon with her eyes to get it.

The half-bloods who stepped forwards first got partially gold ropes that were threaded by some kind of mythological monster's hair thus making them super strong to try and chain the dragon down. That didn't work and eventually he broke all of them, jumping into the air.

He nearly splatted a few satyrs on his way down, sprinted off- it's huge and powerful tail smacking down part of the cabin to Hecate (which then proceeded to magically rebuild itself) and Nemesis (which did not rebuild itself).

"Cabin 9, follow that dragon!" Jake said. "This is our best chance of finding him!"

"Jake, you guys can't go alone," Malcolm said.

Through the son of Athena's reasoning Jake calmed down and they made a quick plan. A few half-bloods were going to go get dressed properly and follow Festus into the woods. Others would rebuild the cabin to Nemesis. The day would go on as usual. The search parties would come back at noon because monsters were more active in the afternoon and by then all hope of finding Festus was lost.

* * *

><p>When it was noon, Zoey was ready to go back to the main property of camp. She hadn't had breakfast so she was starving, and it was a particularly hot day and Ancient Greek armour wasn't exactly light to wear and it did not breathe at all.<p>

She and Drew were ranting about Estella's earlier comment about the dragon not being their problem, and then they ended up walking alongside Jake who'd cut through another path.

"Oh, hey Zo. Drew."

"Hey Jake," they both said at the same time.

"How did your search go?" He asked.

"Alright," Zoey said. "No sign of the dragon, though. Sorry."

"It's not your fault," Jake said looking rather glum.

Drew slowly backed away into the forest and to another path. Zoey's eyes widened and she was about to hiss for her to come back there that instant, but she didn't say anything. Drew shot her a playful and 'I really am your friend, I promise' type smile and disappeared amongst the greenery.

"I'm still sorry," she said looking at Jake.

"What for?"

"I know you really wanted to get that dragon tamed." Zoey said. Jake shrugged.

"It wasn't meant to be. All the inventions in the forges are breaking. The dragon broke too." Jake shrugged. "It's a curse. It's because Beckendorf isn't around."

"Bull," Zoey said. "You're only cursed if you think you are."

Jake shrugged. "The dragon went haywire once B died. I… I don't think I'm good enough of a counsellor to fix him…"

"Stop that," Zoey said whacking him on the arm. "You're a fine counsellor. You're just as much of a counsellor as I am. Just because you were thrown into the job doesn't mean you're not good for it. The dragon was saved and reactivated and repaired by Beckendorf. It's not that you're bad with automatons it's more like… like Beckendorf is the dragon's mom and you're the dragon's aunt."

"You're saying that the dragon thinks of me as Auntie Jake?" He asked.

Zoey laughed and whacked him again. "What I'm saying is that it's not the same bond. It's not your fault. It's nature."

"Seriously?" Jake asked.

"Seriously," Zoey said. "If I was a bronze dragon, I would totally let you fix me and all that."

"That means so much to me."

"As it should," Zoey said. "Now, stop being all depressed and beat down, go sit down with your cabin, have a random conversation, eat corn dogs and drink Mountain Dew."

Jake looked at her weird.

"What? They're your favourites. Food is a great provider of comfort and joy." Zoey said. She hoped that that didn't totally sound as if she watched him eat a lot.

Jake laughed. "Do you come in pocket size so I can carry you around and get slapped in the side of the head when I get pessimistic?"

"Mmm-no," Zoey said. "You've just got to keep me around."

"Done," Jake said.

* * *

><p>"Jake I brought you your girlfriend," Harley yelled out to his brother, who was working on a power saw. Zoey blushed and Jake looked up confused, pushing his visor up.<p>

"Oh. Zoey. Hi Zoey." He said.

"Hello Jake. And thank you Harley," Zoey told the smallest son of Hephaestus. He blushed when she said it and scurried off. Jake wandered closer.

"You didn't tell him that you weren't my girlfriend?" Jake asked. Zoey shrugged.

"He's young. If he wants to believe that people in the world love each other, that's fine by me." Zoey said.

"He's eight," Jake said to fill in the blank.

"Cute," Zoey nodded. "But young to be here. I'd freak out if I had a little brother age eight at camp."

"You have other siblings?"

"One half-brother," Zoey said. "His name's Caleb, he's mortal. But that's not why I came here- right- I nearly forgot! I have a _great _idea!" She said. "Oh come on, don't look scared. I just really, really need your help. Like, half of the plan is me getting help from you."

"Okay," Jake said. "What's your plan?"

"We should build a tree house," she said.

"A tree house?" Jake said.

"Yeah! It'd be another place for people to chill and get away from everyone and climb and get a view!" Zoey said. "I mean, come on, I double dog dare you to find a kid at camp who didn't want a tree house as a kid, and I dare you to find one who still wouldn't like to-" She faltered when she saw Jake's face. "You don't think it's a good idea?"

"Yeah, yeah. I, I do."

"So what's that face for?"

"Because I don't understand how you come up with this stuff," he said shaking his head. "But a lot of nymphs got sick and loads of wood got cut down. We can totally build a tree house with that."

* * *

><p>It didn't take long for Jake to gather up his siblings and draw a blueprint, and all the counsellors voted the project to go. Chiron accepted, Mr D did not, but they proceeded to build it anyways. Anyways, the day after the vote, Zoey had explained all the potential dangers of a tree house, which made him change his now.<p>

Zoey climbed up. For now the ladder was a steel building ladder, but the final design had a swinging rope ladder, like a pirate ship.

"I was expecting a sign telling me that hardhats and steel-toed boots were necessary," she said, popping up through the trap at the bottom of the tree house.

"Funny, aren't you?" Jake said looking away from where he was installing the window frames.

The tree house would be pretty spacious. They were going to hang garlands of flags which would hold the symbols of all the gods. Plant boxes would be right outside the windowsill and Zoey was in the process of convincing Annabeth to swipe some colour-changing flowers from Olympus. The architect herself had a plan for the ceiling that she'd explained to Zoey and Jake; something about how if she found the right material she could make it so that a few of the skylights would reflect other places in the world- Olympus, the Underworld, desolate Mouth Othrys… Light was pouring into the tree house from the roof.

"This is pretty," Drew said climbing in after her. "This is really pretty."

"Pretty? That's all you can come up with?" Nyssa reproached.

"I'm just… speechless…" Drew said. "I can't believe this only took two days."

"We're not done yet," Jake said. "No way. The patio is still missing."

"_Patio?" _

"Yeah," Jake said as if it was nothing. "And we're trying to install a rope bridge and a zip line that will lead to platforms that Christopher and Jane are setting up in other trees."

"What would be really cool would be if there were all kinds of tree houses all around the forest's borders," Zoey said her brain and imagination running loose. "And then they'd all be connected by zip lines or rope bridges or giant floating skipping stones…"

"Slow down, dreamer," Jake said. "Let's finish the one first and see how people like it?"

"People will love it," Drew said. "Every kid wants a tree house."

"Not everyone is five years old in their head," Jake teased. Drew took off her snapback and slapped him in the shoulder before putting it back on.

Zoey laughed and looked around. This was coming to life all around her. She smiled and beamed at Jake. He was making all these fantasies in her head a reality.

"I owe you one for the help." Zoey said.

"No you don't," Jake said. "I'm just helping out a… friend."

* * *

><p>Zoey was heading over to sword fighting. She'd forgotten her helmet in the cabin- stupid move…<p>

She noticed the children of Hephaestus all gathered up, wearing black clothes and heavy-duty gloves and glasses. They held long pieces of machinery and had backpacks and tool belts on. Harley was holding two jumbo sized bottles; one of Tabasco sauce and one of motor oil.

"Whoa, where are you guys going?" Zoey asked eyeing them.

"Into the forest," Jake said. "The nymphs and the Council of Cloven Elders finally decided to work with us- thank the gods for Grover. They gave us a few locations, and we're going to go set traps and see if we can get this dragon in check."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa- you guys are going alone?" Zoey asked. "No, that's not cool. There are not enough of you in case you actually _do _run into the dragon."

"Zoey, we'll be fine, Chiron knows we're out there." Jake said.

Zoey was sceptic.

"We know what we're doing." Jake said.

"Knowing what you're doing and not getting killed is not the same thing." Zoey said nervously.

"We'll be fine." Jake said. Zoey shuffled her feet, leaned forwards and kissed his cheek.

"A good luck kiss," she explained quickly. "You're going to need it."

* * *

><p>Nyssa was the first to point out, when they all marched out of the forest – traps set, without a dragon, but all uninjured- that "Well, at least the kiss work".<p>

* * *

><p>The tree house's grand opening was basically just cabins 9 and 10. But it was fun and everyone went on the zip lines and rope bridges. Mitchell jumped up and down on it to scare all the children of Hephaestus who hated heights, which got him no favour from anybody.<p>

Someone had brought a cooler full of Mountain Dew and Monster Energy drinks and so they'd been in there all afternoon.

"Jake?" Zoey said. They were both leaning on the railing.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"I think we need a slide here." Zoey said.

Jake's head fell over the railing.

"What if I threw you over the railing? Would that count?"

Zoey laughed and elbowed him. "I'm kidding." She kissed him on the cheek quickly. "Thank you so much for everything, it's amazing."

"I'll have to throw you over the railing if you keep thanking me too," he said, making her laugh.

"Zo!" Mitchell yelled from faraway. "She's vicious! Save me!"

"Oh, that's Mitch and probably Nyssa. Gotta fly," Zoey said leaving him alone.

She turned around to say more to him, but saw his hand on the cheek she'd just kissed.

She smiled and kept walking.

* * *

><p>"Drew, can you go find black?" She asked.<p>

"Black?" Drew asked.

"Yes. Absence of all colours, you know?" Zoey asked.

"I'm not in idiot." Drew replied. A bottle of black nail polish was plucked in front of her and Drew flicked Zoey's hair.

"Drew!" Zoey said. "I nearly messed that up!"

"No you didn't, you're pro at painting nails."

"I nearly screwed up my Spiderman nails!" Zoey said. "This is half of Mitchell's birthday present. He's wanted me to do this for ages."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Drew said sheepishly sitting down.

"We sound like an old married couple," Zoey said.

"We're best friends. There's just a thin gap between those two things, the major one being that we're sisters and also not into girls."

* * *

><p>"Zo!" Someone yelled after her. She looked over her shoulder. She'd just gone to drop off a plan Annabeth had trusted her with at the forge.<p>

Jake was standing outside the forge.

"Yeah?" She asked.

"I…" He looked dumbstruck for a second. "You know how Cabin 20's making fireworks for the fall Equinox."

"Yeah?"

"And how it's going to be this huge magic thing that's going to be pretty impressive?"

"Yes."

"Do you wanna go watch with me?" Jake asked. He looked nervous and uncomfortable and it was somehow super endearing.

Zoey smiled. "I'd love to."

* * *

><p>It was Harley's birthday in three days. He was turning nine, and it was his first birthday away from home and without a birthday party.<p>

Jake was telling Zoey this as they hung out in the tree house, telling her how he was scared how his little brother would react.

"What do you mean no birthday party?" Zoey asked. "If you're worried about his reaction, just organise a birthday party."

Jake starred at her blankly.

"Oh for Zeus' sake," Zoey said. "It's not that hard. Find a present, find cake, get people to sing happy birthday, organise a game. Like- a treasure hunt. There. I'll find someone who can bake –or worst, worst case scenario I'll make it- and organise a treasure hunt. You find a present, gather your cabin, and let's do this."

"You're a genius," Jake said.

"Yeah, it's been known to happen." Zoey said. "It's too bad we don't have time to build him a tree house though."

"Whoa- let's not get too crazy, Mad Genius." Jake said.

* * *

><p>She shivered. Camp nights got cold around the fall, so October 2nd was freezing of course, because Mr D hated them.<p>

She clutched her sweater closer to her, a white loosely knit thing her stepmother had gotten for her and that was her one surviving sweater and that therefore she had to wear and not throw out. Her legs were freezing.

She called out into the forge again. Jake, Nyssa, Harley, Chris- somebody..? She knew that Jake didn't want her going into the forge alone on account that the last guy who'd done that had lost an eye- which was why Harley or Nyssa or whoever always either walked her up to where Jake was, or went to get him for her.

And because of that one guy who last his eye she was ready to cooperate on that one.

She was about to give up when she noticed a spidery bronze artefact crawling on the table towards her. Instead of an abdomen it had a glass spear filled with smoke. Zoey watched, intrigued, as the smoke went from blue to green to yellow to orange to red…

And suddenly she was tackled to the ground as the spider exploded, which probably saved her life.

She opened her eyes and saw Jake lying on top of her.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm squishing you…" He propped himself up on his elbows. "You okay, Zo?"

"Yeah, you saved me." Zoey said. "Thank you so much!"

"Couldn't have let you die, now could I?" Jake said. He didn't move. Zoey didn't want him to move. She could count all the different kinds of brown in his eyes. He even had a bit of hazel thrown in there. His hair was light brown and curling. He had the kind of face that didn't strike you at first but at a certain time after knowing him for a certain amount of time, in a certain day, in a certain place –say, on the floor of the forge- it suddenly looked really, really, _really _cute.

And then all of a sudden he lowered his face and kissed her.

And Zoey kissed him back.

And they kissed forever.

And eventually they moved or rolled or something that she hadn't been paying attention to, because Zoey was on top. Her hair was curtaining them, like they were in their private world.

Zoey loved that world.

Finally she pulled back because they both needed to catch their breaths. Zoey pushed all her hair over her right shoulder.

"Well that escalated quickly," Jake said.

Zoey smiled.

* * *

><p>She walked into the cabin, changed into the world's comfiest pyjamas and went into the bathroom to brush her teeth.<p>

"Drew," she called with her toothbrush in her mouth. "I need help."

"Doing what?" Drew asked.

Zoey shot her a look and Drew swung her legs out of bed wearing another pair of world's comfiest pyjamas (this was one of the best parts about being sisters with your two best friends; Silena had just rummaged for their clothes size and made them world's comfiest pyjamas for Christmas. Zoey's were purple, Drew's were blue and Silena's had been yellow).

"Brushing my hair," Zoey said. "I got some sap into it."

"How?" Drew demanded. Zoey spit out toothpaste foam.

"Gods know. Please?" Zoey said.

Drew sighed but grabbed Zoey's hair brush from her toiletry kit in one of the medicine cabinets and brushed.

"Okay, so you know how I went to the forge after the camp fire?" Zoey said quietly.

"Yeah," Drew said, brushing out her hair, visibly confused by the lack of sap.

"And how I was supposed to pick up something I forgot there last night when I was chilling with Jake, talking about the second tree house?"

"Yeah," Drew said looking focused on Zoey's thick dark brown hair.

"Okay, well, funny thing happened." She explained everything to Drew very quickly and Drew dropped the brush.

"Oh my gods!" She near-shouted.

People looked at them weird.

"Sorry there's just _so _much sap in here…" Drew apologised.

Everyone went back to whatever.

"Oh my gods," she whispered again. "Like, kiss or make out?"

"Umm… Definitely, making out."

"Oh my gods." Drew said. "In the _forge?" _

"It just happened, we didn't plan it! Well at least I didn't."

"Nuh-uh, he's a son of Hephaestus; he wouldn't have planned it either, honey." Drew said.

Drew was grinning and she clapped her hands. "I'm sorry, I'm just so happy for you! These feels are destructive! It's about time you stop running after each other like little puppy dogs."

"We did not do that," Zoey said.

"Umm- yeah. All of camp was waiting for it to happen. It was like Si and Beckendorf, except it didn't take four years." Drew said.

She spent the rest of the evening singing love or just plain happy songs under her breath.

Zoey forever had 'Good Day, Sunshine' in her head.

* * *

><p>Somehow half of camp knew in less than twenty minutes of the first smile Zoey gave Jake during breakfast.<p>

Like; they had sword fighting with Cabin 9 and the instructor purposefully did not pair them up. He said 'pick your partners', Jake and Zoey made eye contact, she started walking, and he said 'not you!' pointing at them. Ditto during archery. The Greek Myth teacher substitute sat them down together.

Stupid little things like that.

And the campfire didn't help.

She sat next to him at the campfire and leaned against his chest. Much like Silena had been; she was happy that cabins 9 and 10 sat next to each other during these things.

"Oh!" She shouted along with everyone else during the song, pumping her fist in the air. This was the catchiest most folky and old song in the campfire's repertoire. "I'm glad me love survived the war!"

The Apollo campers stopped prancing around with their instruments.

"Thank you, Cabin Seven," Chiron told them, moving into the camp fire area while the musicians cleared out. Marshmallows were impaled on his spear.

This was Chiron's number one mistake at camp fires. Everyone looked at the marshmallow and paid no attention to him. Always.

"I want that," Jake whispered in her ear. Zoey stifled a laugh but gave him a 'you're bad' look. He'd already had a bunch, he'd even stolen hers.

Chiron made a few announcements about Capture-the-Flag being cancelled, that please, whoever had stolen Cabin 5's giant boar head in the chaos of the cabin's dragon-attack (this was mainly directed to the Stolls) should give it back, and that Mr D was still looking for someone who could provide Séyamour the leopard with fresh meat.

Then he asked for an update on the Bronze dragon and everyone immediately looked at Jake on whom Zoey was leaning on. It took about three seconds for the Stolls to jump to their feet and chant, which then led to the whole cabin jumping to their feet and chanting.

"Jake and Zoey sitting in a tree

K-i-s-s-i-n-g.

First comes love, then come marriage,

Then comes Jake with a baby in the carriage."

Zoey blushed _so _hard.

Thankfully her cabin still remembered the drill from last time one of their members was in a serious relationship and replied;

"D-E-A.T.H. to the Stoll

First comes the bomb; then the death toll

And then comes peace

And no more Stoll."

Everyone laughed even if the song was old. Maybe it was just that nobody had heard it in a while and it felt good to hear it, even if Beckendorf and Silena weren't there.

"Okay everyone, settle down."

"Yeah, some of us want to know what's going on with Capture-the-Flag!" A son of Ares said.

* * *

><p>"You're going out to check the traps?" Zoey asked when she ran into the children of Hephaestus, all dressed up and armed.<p>

"Yes," Jake said. "Do I get another good luck kiss?"

Zoey walked up to him and kissed his cheek.

"Well that's cheap," he said.

"It's not a good luck kiss if it's not on the cheek," Zoey insisted. She kissed him properly. "There's your real one."

Jake grinned at her before talking to his siblings. "Okay guys, out we go. Nyssa stop looking at me that way, let's go, move out."

Zoey turned back to her siblings who were looking at her with gushy eyes and goofy grins.

"Okay guys, let's go. All of you, stop looking at me that way."

* * *

><p>They sat on the tree house porch drinking Monster energy drinks, their legs dangling.<p>

"Funny," Zoey said suddenly. "Guess we are sitting in a tree."

"Well, you know what comes next." Jake said. He put his can down and gathered her in his arms.

* * *

><p>Zoey must've looked really pitiful judging by the way things had gone down.<p>

She'd been helping the Camp store unload supplies, which was her counsellor chore of the day, and a box had fallen down and smashed her hands. Sadly that box had been filled with blocks of celestial bronze that Cabin 9 melted down and forged with, and celestial bronze was _not _light.

So both of her hands were broken. She was out for the day, but Chiron promised that the casts she had on her hands had nectar in the plaster mix and so she'd be up and about soon.

Drew spent most of the day with her, as Jake was out dragon-hunting (he'd come to her bedside for his good luck kiss). When Jake came back.

Drew left, like Drew was so apt to do when Zoey's boyfriend showed up. Jake sat down next to her.

"So how's it like not to use your hands for the whole day?"

"Horrible. Every time Drew's holding my glass up for me I keep thinking she'll just completely tip it and splash me." Zoey said.

"Oh come on, she's your best friend."

"Exactly!" Zoey said.

"Did you get your casts signed?"

"No," Zoey said. "Mitchell was pretty adamant about keeping everyone out of the cabin."

Jake produced a Sharpie.¸

"May I?" He asked.

He signed her right arm since that was what he was closest to, and Zoey checked her signature.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Zo broke her hands

Boo-hoo-hoo

XO Jake

"Really?" Zoey asked. "This is what you come up with?"

"Yeah," Jake said. "And I'm pretty proud of myself."

"If you're going to be a poet without even knowing it, you should write something sweet."

"Like what?" Jake asked.

"I don't know. A limerick. A Haiku. No- a sonnet. That's the best."

"What the heck is a sonnet?"

Zoey kissed him. "It's okay. Just stick to making things."

They talked for a bit and eventually it came around to how she hadn't been able to repaint her nails, like she usually did. She was a two-days-and-change kind of girl when it came to her nails. She just had too much fun painting nails to wait longer. Right now she had little Ying-Yang symbols on the nails poking out of her cast.

"It doesn't look good." She complained.

"It's fine, Zo, you always do a good job at painting your nails."

"I wish I could repaint them."

"Your casts will be off tomorrow."

"That just ruins my two-day plan. I have my nails planned out for the whole year. There's a list in my head." Zoey said.

Jake caught on.

"Oh no. No way. I love you very, very much, but no."

"Oh come on," she whined.

"No, let's move on the conversation, I am not doing this." Jake said.

"Jake…"

"The weather was really nice today."

"Jake…"

"It rained a little, but it was sunny at the same time which was weird."

"Jake…"

"There was a rainbow."

"Jay-jay…" She tried again. She put on her puppy dog face the moment he turned his head towards her. He sighed and his shoulders dropped.

"Fine," he said.

Zoey smiled. "My case is under my bed. Purple shoebox," she said.

Jake dug it out and his eyes popped when he saw all the colours.

"O-kay," he said. "What am I supposed to do?"

"First there's nail polish remover in there." Zoey said. "The big bottle of stinky stuff?"

"Oh! Yeah, my mom had one of those."

"Yeah, so do many women," Zoey said. "It's easier in the bathroom, come on."

And so she actually had him rub off all the old nail polish. She told him how she'd been planning on having little flags (Japan, UK, Tanzania, France, Italy, Belgium, Finland, Jamaica, Holland and Switzerland) on her nails but the second she started explaining Jake zoned out. Zoey had to recalculate; and _fast. _

"Okay; how do you feel about little daisies?"

"Little daisies?"

"Yes," Zoey said patiently. "In a green field."

Jake paused for a moment. "What's wrong with just purple?"

"Purple's not gonna happen."

"But you love purple."

"Not plain-Jane purple on my nails." She said.

Jake calculated in his own mind. "I'm not going to get anything simpler than daisies, am I?"

"That depends how you feel about animal print."

"Daisies it is," Jake said.

She would never forget the look on Drew's face when the cabin walked back in and saw Jake applying white nail polish as petals.

* * *

><p>October 28th had been a great day until the night.<p>

Drew was sitting on her bed, not looking like she'd move.

So Zoey sent everyone else to the camp fire and told them that she'd be there in a second, she just had to change her shoes.

She sat down next to Drew, who had her knees pulled up to her chest.

Zoey sat down cross-legged in front of her.

"He didn't call?" Zoey asked.

Drew shook her head left and right looking bummed out. She moved all her hair over one shoulder, head bowed down, eyes sad and Zoey knew what that meant. Drew wasn't feeling pretty.

See, some people just always felt pretty. When they were happy, they felt gorgeous and confident and ready to go get 'em no matter what they were wearing or doing or acting like. Drew was one of those people. So when Drew didn't feel pretty it was because she was hurt or someone had made her feel worthless.

And as sister, best friend and even more, Eggroll sister, Zoey could not let that happen.

"No," Drew said, wrapping her arms around her legs even tighter. "He didn't. He was probably spending the day with Audrey."

Zoey sighed. Her dad had the bad luck of falling for women hard. He fell for Aphrodite hard, which explained Drew. And he fell for a woman named Audrey Hart hard, which explained why on the day where it was both her and Drew's birthday he forgot to call his daughter.

Always.

Every year, Drew had a great birthday because that was one of the Aphrodite cabin's policy, but sometime when the day was coming to an end she realised that her dad hadn't IM'ed or sent a birthday card or something (which always made Zoey feel guilty when hers came in the mail) and her energy deflated.

Drew had had to use charmspeak to get her fair share of attention and care as a child, which explained why she was very territorial about her power even now. But far away from her relatives in Syracuse, her voice wasn't heard and her existence was… well, forgotten.

Zoey moved to sit down next to Drew and they just lied down like that. Usually Silena would have been on Drew's other side. But now Zoey on her ownwould have to do.

"You know Drew, if someone's really worth it; you're worth it to them." She said. "And I know that we're talking about your dad and not some crush, but some rules can be applied everywhere. Kay?"

"Kay," Drew said. Her voice was sad and quiet. "I just don't like that I'm not worth it to him."

Zoey hugged Drew. "You're totally worth it to me, for what that's worth."

* * *

><p>She was walking to the tree house and suddenly someone yelled "WILL! DON'T JUMP!"<p>

She saw a shape falling from the patio and hit the ground and- oh my gods it was a body! The head hit the ground, cracked and something gushed out.

Zoey stumbled back and let out a little scream of shock and went to check it out immediately. Jeans, a Camp shirt, a cracked head that was actually a watermelon…

She heard laughing from above and looked up. Jake came out of the tree house, laughing his butt off. Drew and Will followed and Zoey was unimpressed.

"Really you guys?" She said. She kicked the dummy's head. More melon juice spilled out of the head, making everyone laugh even more.

"Happy Halloween Zo!" Jake said.

Drew managed to stop laughing for a few seconds. "You were right Jake, this was awesome."

"Are you telling me that you guys have been planning this for a while? Like, you built the dummy just for me at just this time?" Zoey said.

Jake smiled at her which said enough.

"On another subject I'm really touched that you'd be concerned if I jumped off a building," Will said.

Zoey didn't say anything to reply. She just showed them a handful of candy that she pulled from her pocket, they lowered the ladder and she climbed up to join them.

* * *

><p>It'd happened last year. She and Will got together at Camp's New Year's party. Things were going great until May.<p>

She remembered having to find him because she'd borrowed a hoody at the campfire. Considering summer was always a busy time for monsters, he was visiting his mother in Brooklyn for a few days before it started. She knew that this hoody was his favourite and so she'd decided to bring it back to him so he could pack it on his trip.

The only kid in the cabin was a girl named Bridgette who had caught chicken pox off of Katie Gardner's army of tiny children of Demeter, and who would sadly be stuck with chicken pox throughout the summer.

She told Zoey to come in and pointed her to the right bunk before falling asleep.

She, Silena and Drew were writing wedding invitation for a sister of theirs getting married in the fall so she had a pen in her pocket, and she was trying to find paper to write a note on. She found a scrap under his bed and wrote _Brought your hoody back, have fun in the city, xo Sparkles _because he always called her Sparkles.

Then she noticed that something was written on the other side of the paper and panicked because she thought that she'd ruined something important. Reading over it she found the first thing for which dyslexia didn't handicap her.

_Will,_

_I really miss you! I'm glad you're coming back to Brooklyn in a few days and I look forwards to seeing you. It seems that between your boarding school and mine, we never get to see each other, yeah? _

There was some parts about how the writer's family was doing, how school was going, something about volleyball.

_My granddad found out that I had a boyfriend and he was panicking for a second. Then I described you to him and he just sat down and said 'and this bloke is actually what you described? Sounds like a fine lad. I'll have to meet him, but a'right.' I told him you were American and that you never came to London. He was disappointed, but my mom calmed him down with a slice of cake. _

_ I'm seriously looking forwards to seeing you. I've missed you. Maybe we can catch a movie sometime. Just let me know when you're in town._

_ XOXO (infinity) _

_ Emma_

That day she went to go find Will, thrust the letter in his hand and told him he had five seconds to explain. Nothing came out of his mouth and she started crying and ran back to the Aphrodite cabin.

Drew hugged her and told her that Will was a jerk and that he didn't deserve her and the usual script. Silena marched out of the cabin, came back dragging Will by the ear and smacked him in the shoulder.

Trying to be quiet and discreet but not really succeeding because everyone in the cabin was quieter and more vigilant now, he explained that Emma was from England and that she went to the boarding school in Brooklyn where his mom worked and coached the basketball team. Will tagged along during one of the practises. He met Emma, she liked him, and they talked after practise until his mom got tired of waiting for him to go home. They exchanged emails, then letters and she saw him as often as possible and they'd been together for two years already, since they were thirteen.

"Good. Now get out." Silena had said, boiling mad. Mitchell nearly went after Will, but Silena got him to freeze and go back to licking envelopes for the wedding invitations.

The Eggroll sisters escaped to the bathroom where it was quieter. Silena talked Zoey into a slightly happier state. Drew was more practical and managed to build a voodoo doll out of toilet paper and a loofah sponge.

At supper that night Will had a black eye and from what Zoey heard, Jake Mason had given it to him.

When she was walking to the campfire, her arms looped around Silena and Drew's in their eternal (for a while) campaign for providing support, Jake came to talk to her. Drew and Silena slipped away to give them some privacy.

He was a stuttering and shy and introverted guy, so it wasn't a well-polished piece with wise words that Zoey remembered for the rest of her life. She remembered that he was basically apologising about Will. He said that he didn't know about Emma and that nobody at camp had and that if he did he would have told her for sure and that he was sorry that Will was a jerk.

"Did you give him the black eye?" Zoey asked.

"Yeah. I got mad at him for being an idiot." He said.

So maybe it should have been a year ago that Zoey had realised that Jake may have a rough exterior at first glance and conversation but there was gold and diamonds and jewels inside.

* * *

><p>Jake was trying to explain different kinds of support beams to her. She was sitting at a swivelling stool, like at a retro bar, in the forge.<p>

"So does that mean that the next tree house can't have stairs that wrap all around a tree trunk?"

Jake sighed. "No. I'll explain it one more time Zo; and you're smart enough to get it so pay attention. See, the support you need for a structure depends on…"

Zoey was still stuck looking at his lips moving and ignoring all else.

* * *

><p>On one of the free nights they had she, Will, Jake and Drew had started a conversation about how full camp was comparing to other falls and winters.<p>

Then they ended up having a water balloon and water gun fight in the tree house; sliding along the zip lines, climbing into other trees, leaning dangerously over the railing.

Zoey forgot how that happened, but it did.

"That was fun," Jake said.

"Yeah, but I'm soaked." Zoey said. Her clothes felt clingy.

"No you're not," Jake scoffed.

"Umm, yeah I am!" Zoey said.

"No," Jake said. "I'm going to show you 'soaked'."

Before she could do anything he picked her up.

"Jake!" She said. "Don't!"

He was bringing her towards the canoe lake.

Oh poo.

"Jake!" She protested. "Jake Mason, don't you dare! Don't you dare, Jake Mason!"

He did.

He threw her into the canoe lake and she was stuck laughing and screeching as he did, which didn't get the 'don't do it' point across really well.

And then of course he offered her a hand to pull her back out and Zoey accepted, flopping onto the deck, completely wet from head to toe and to the bone.

"I will hurt you one day," she threatened. Jake laughed and the sound warmed her. He leaned down and kissed her, and didn't object when she wrapped her soaking wet arms around him.

Zoey sat on his lap and they kissed for a few more minutes before;

"That awkward moment when Percy and Annabeth pop out of the lake and tell you to find your own spot."

Zoey tried to stop him, but Jake pulled away.

"Damn you for interrupting, Will." She said.

* * *

><p>"Why are you wet?" Drew asked.<p>

"Did you fall in the lake?" Mitchell asked, nearly hopefully.

"No, I was _thrown," _Zoey corrected.

Then she lied down on her little brother's bed and he groaned and rushed to push her off before she soaked it. She twisted her hair and let all the water drop on his pillow because she was such a great sister when he succeeded.

Upon which she found sanctuary in the bathroom with Lacy as long as she promised to stay under the sink and not look.

* * *

><p>Jake had been cold all day.<p>

And people whispered when they saw Zoey for the whole day but shut up when she looked in their general direction.

Zoey didn't know why. She went to find him. He was hanging out by the basketball court, alone, taking shots at the hoop and missing each one.

"Not in the forge?" She asked.

He didn't' reply, taking another shot. He took another.

Zoey caught the ball as it bounced off the hoop.

"Jake, what's going on?" She asked rather harshly.

Pet peeves of being a daughter of Aphrodite; being ignored was not fun. Pet peeves of being a human; being ignored by your boyfriend was not fun either.

"I was hoping you could tell me," Jake said. "Can I have my ball back?"

"Can I get an actual concrete answer that, you know, helps?" Zoey demanded, holding the ball to her side and putting a fist on her waist.

"You're just dating me to get back at Will for cheating on you," Jake spat out harshly.

"_What?" _Zoey asked. "Who told you that? Will?" She was mad now.

"No," Jake promised. "I just… I heard it around and it makes sense because you're you and I'm me and you're gold and I'm a rock spray-painted bronze and…"

"Shut up," Zoey ordered. "Shut up right now! Stop right there, Mr. Freeze." She cut. She was genuinely angry.

"Okay, one, we're going to have to stop that underrating-of-yourself thing right now this instant or else I'll have to smack you behind the head. And two; how shallow do you think I am?"

"What?"

"How shallow do you think I am? You talked to me the day I found out Will was cheating on me. You know how much that hurt me. Do you think that I would do that to anybody? Do you think I would do that to _you?" _

"I…" Jake didn't' say anything.

"That's stereotyping!" She said. "Right there, you're calling me an Estella or a Scarlett! Some random Aphrodite girl who pimps herself up and strides around in heels and breaks and judges and shows off her manicure left and right! _Gods! _I hate that! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! I paint my nails, I wear earrings, but I'm not some… some _bitch." _Zoey said.

"I never said you were!" Jake said.

"You accused me of doing world's bitchiest thing!" Zoey said. "I'm your girlfriend! You should know me well enough to know that I wouldn't do that!"

"Well you shouldn't be yelling at me!" Jake said.

"I can't help but yell at you I'm just freaking mad!"

"Fine!" Jake said. "Give me back my ball."

Zoey threw it at him too hard and he walked away.

Her stomach sank.

Oh gods of Olympus, what had she done?

* * *

><p>She was freaking out and shaking and nearly crying when she explained the fight to Drew.<p>

"Oh, honey, it was one fight," she said. "Everybody fights."

"I yelled at him and said some bad stuff." Zoey said. "Oh my gods, now he's even more mad at me, and he probably still thinks I did it…"

"No, no, no," Drew promised holding her close. That made Zoey start crying because she loved Drew of course, but she wanted to be in Jake's arms. This made Drew start a playlist of Zoey's favourite songs.

"Come stop your crying  
>It will be alright<br>Just take my hand  
>Hold it tight<p>

I will protect you  
>From all around you<br>I will be here  
>Don't you cry<p>

For one so small,  
>You seem so strong<br>My arms will hold you,  
>Keep you safe and warm<br>This bond between us  
>Can't be broken<br>I will be here  
>Don't you cry<p>

'Cause you'll be in my heart  
>Yes, you'll be in my heart<br>From this day on  
>Now and forever more…" She sung softly.<p>

This went on until Zoey was too tired to cry, put on her pyjamas and went to bed early.

* * *

><p>Jake had come by that morning when she was in the shower and asked to see her on the court, last activity block before lunch.<p>

She showed up shy, her hair down. He was shooting hoops, and didn't notice her until his ball bounced off and she caught it.

"Hi," she said.

"Hey," he replied. "Umm… I'm sorry you were upset last night…"

Zoey didn't have a reply.

"I guess I acted stupid," he said. "No- I mean- I _was _stupid. I was totally, totally stupid."

Zoey didn't contradicted. "I was a bit harsh."

"No," Jake said. "You were right. You were so, so right. And…" He hesitated. "I know you were really upset last night."

"How did you..?"

"Drew," Jake said. "She… kind-of smacked me this morning."

"No," Zoey said.

"Yeah. Knocked some sense into me." Jake looked down at his shoes. Zoey had a feeling that if he had the ball, he'd be shooting hoops again. But right now Zoey had total monopoly on it, so Jake talked.

"I just don't understand… I mean, you're gorgeous. You're fun. You're sweet. You're bubbly and energetic and… and, like, _perfect. _So I don't understand why you're with me because I'm not, okay? I'm not as bad as, like Christopher, or Beckendorf used to be, but I'm no knight in shining armour so when I heard the rumour I kind of thought 'well that explains it'."

"Knights are overrated!" Zoey said. "Did you know that knights were just nobility with big bucks who got to ride around on horses? They didn't even pull on their own armour, for the sake of the gods! I had a knight once. His horse was white, even. But he ended up breaking my heart. And so far, the idiot in the tin foil's doing a lot better."

Jake blinked.

"Really?"

Yes," Zoey said. "And mark my words; I will figure out who started this rumour because none of it is true and I nearly lost you last night and gosh I can't do it."

Jake pulled her into a hug and kissed her fiercely. Zoey kind-of just melted in his arms and her brain said _I'll just abandon you right now, enjoy. _ Her legs gave out under her, but Jake held her up.

"I wanted it to be a lie so, so bad." He said in her ear,

* * *

><p>Zoey put on pink lip gloss and kissed a piece of paper. She folded it in two, and ran out to go catch Jake before the resetting-of-the-traps expedition. She gave him a hug, slipping the paper in his back pocket.<p>

"Whoa, whoa, what's this hugging nonsense?" He asked.

Zoey laughed and gave him a kiss.

"Good luck," she said.

"Thank you," Jake said. "Okay Cabin 9, out we go."

* * *

><p>She was supposed to just drop off her armour and run like Hades to try not to miss the counsellor meeting but there was a metal envelope on her bed and Zoey was curious and ADHD, so she opened it.<p>

It flew out of her hands, landed on her bed, and folded itself into an origami bird, a crane, a heart, a dragonfly... It settled down and opened to produce a sheet of paper with bubbly handwriting.

_Hey Zo, you didn't like the poem I wrote you on your cast. So I wrote you another one. It took a while. Sorry. _

_PS- It's supposed to be an Italian sonnet. But I'm ADHD, I suck with words, I can't rhyme and my syllable counts are horrible. Lower the standard bar, Zo. _

_Once upon a time in a far land_

_There was a princess so beautiful_

_Every man wanted her hand_

_And every dame wished to be as charmful (is that a word, Zo?)_

_Princesses like her were in demand_

_Who would not want a love so colourful?_

_Such a sweet character made life grand_

_Picking amongst suitors was for the dutiful_

_But this princess was beautiful in and out_

_And knowing that not everybody was,_

_She made the choice hers and hers only_

_The handsome and the dashing she could live without_

_And so even if she was all the buzz_

_I got freaking lucky._

She ended up running like Hades to the counsellor meeting to give Jake the biggest hug of life.

* * *

><p>They were designing the third tree house. A spiral staircase would curl around the tree's trunk. There would be detail work so that at night the tree house would look like a lantern, and Zoey was trying to argue with Jake that they could connect pavilions and wooden gazebos and catwalks with glass floors to it.<p>

They were arguing too much about it, so Jake tossed the blueprint aside, saying they'd settle it later, and they worked on another.

This one was a temple, except without any crumbly rock, just wood. They were borrowing a footnote Annabeth had left somewhere about having projections of the icons of gods on the floor. Of course it wouldn't be a proper temple, just a quiet Zen prayer zone.

Except Jake didn't see the necessity, so they tossed it and designed one dedicated to colours. Each square inch could be a different colour and they could be arranged in shades and the windows could be stained glass and flowers could be grown in window boxes, supporting posts under the tree house would have ivy climbing around them, and there would be a slide to get down. A ramp would be used to get up to it (Jake protested that nothing else at camp was wheelchair convenient, but Zoey nagged and protested so there was that) and fairy lights twirled around the ramp's railing would light the ramp at night.

"How do you come up with these, again?" Jake asked.

"I don't know. But I think we need another one with a giant game board on the floor." Zoey said.

"Have you been trying to hint that at me for days? Is that why you have Monopoly squares on your nails?" Jake asked, looking amused.

"Nope, that's a coincidence. But Monopoly's too boring and the Stolls beat us all at it, anyways. I think it should be Snakes and Ladders or something, like, Python and Elevator to Olympus, right?"

"No," Jake said. "Just… no… We'll find something, but not Pythons and Elevators to Olympus."

* * *

><p>Zoey was bringing Jake to Brooklyn for the first time. Mitchell had spent the car ride in the Camp van talking about all the different martial arts dad was trained in and how he had a gun license and how Zoey's last boyfriend…<p>

"Mitch, shut the heck up," Zoey said. "I have _not _had twenty boyfriends, and out of those I had none of them met an untimely death considering one's in Brooklyn, one's a senior counsellor at camp, and one's right here. Stop it."

Argus dropped them off and then went to go drop off Lou Ellen at her dad's place, and the Stolls at their mom's.

Zoey hiked up the steps of the townhouse and beat Mitchell to the door, pulling it open. Jake held it as they both walked in.

Their little brother was sitting on the steps of the house, waiting as always. He was a two year old named Caleb with curly-ended blond hair and big dark blue eyes.

"Zozo!" He said upon seeing her.

"Hi Cal!" Zoey said as he hugged her legs. She picked him up and held him at her waist. "Wow, you're getting so big!"

Caleb smiled proudly.

"Can I get a high-five?" Mitchell asked.

"Mitch," Caleb said giving him a high-five.

"Yup; that's me." He said.

"Whothat?" Caleb asked starring at Jake.

"That's Zoey's special friend," Mitchell said. "We found him on a curb on our way home."

"Jake, my arms are busy, hit Mitch." She asked.

"Umm…" Jake said obviously shy since they were in the household.

Zoey just kicked him.

"We're home," Zoey yelled in for the two adults who weren't sitting on the stairs and waiting.

"Yay!" Mitchell said.

Their father came up from the basement, carrying a load of folded laundry. He put the basket down and smiled wide, their stepmother Nina coming out from the kitchen with a towel over her shoulder and an apron tied on. Matante (aunt) Michelle, Josée and Aline followed.

Zoey tried not to squish Caleb while hugging her dad. He had a few more grey hairs, but other than that it was the same strong arms, blue eyes and kind handsome face she was used to.

Mitchell got a slap in the back after Nina released him and Zoey got another hug, upon which Caleb was transferred to his mother's arms and Nina inquired how the trip had been and how was traffic and did you eat before coming no good because I made your favourites, and then came the aunts who were always so awestruck by how much they'd grown and how much more beautiful Zoey had gotten and how much stronger Mitchell look. You'd think they'd have gotten used to it.

"Papa, Ni, mes tantes, this is Jake," Zoey said pulling him forwards by the hand. He'd cleaned up without her asking to, bless him. He was wearing a button-down that was _not _his (too clean, although the light blue was gorgeous on him), and light jeans with as little grime and oil as his jeans came in.

"Pleasure to meet you Mr Lévi-Paquette," he said holding his hand out. Zoey had given him proper pronunciation lessons on her last name, her aunts' names and her father's name just in case that came up. Also, she'd told him that 'Zoé' was her real name, which had blown his mind. Zoey had just always hated explaining to people that 'yeah, my whole family's from France, but they're in New York because of reasons' and saying 'stop exaggerating the 'é' and making it sound inhuman'. She'd retreated to 'Zoey' over the years.

"Pleasure's all mine." He said, shaking it. "Good handshake boy," he said, nodding his head approvingly.

Papa had a thing about handshakes being a window into the soul.

Nina beamed at Jake and gave him a hug.

"It's great to have you here!" She said.

"Thank you for inviting me," Jake said. "Thanksgiving isn't big at camp."

He'd also checked with Zoey to figure out how much Nina knew at camp (so anything and everything). Also the aunts knew everything. The Lévi-Paquette family was just a collection of mist-seers, which was really helpful at times.

"Nina makes the best turkey," Zoey promised him.

"Why do you think we brought you?" Mitchell asked.

Zoey smacked him again.

"You're a pain today," she said.

"Zoé, be nice." Papa said.

"See?" Mitchell said. "I am under a dictatorship at camp. She can get away with whatever."

"No!" Zoey scoffed. "I'm fair! No!"

"Yes," Mitchell said.

"Yes," Jake agreed. "That's the fun of being counsellor. You and Nyssa can start an 'I'm going to wine about my older and obviously more mature sibling' club to cope, if you like."

Zoey laughed and Mitchell chose to remain silent.

"You're senior counsellor?" Papa asked.

"Yes," Jake said. "Umm, cabin nine. Of Hephaestus."

Tante Josée looked confused. "But in the myths, weren't Aphrodite and Hephaestus..?"

Zoey put a finger in front of her mouth and shushed her.

"Their marriage sucks," Zoey said. "Well, obviously…" She said gesturing to the three demigods in the doorway. "Anyways, it just doesn't count. It never has and it won't start now."

"Right," Nina said. "Let's get you all out of the door, there's a living room for a reason. Jake, you're not allergic to anything, right?"

"No Mrs. Lévi-Paquette," Jake said. "Everything's going to be delicious, I'm sure."

"That's sweet Jake," Nina said. "Keep your shoes on, you lot. Mitchell, that colour compliments your eyes."

"Hmm? Kay." Mitchell said, following Caleb and Papa to the living room, followed by Jake and a flock of aunts.

"I'll be right with you, I just have to check on the turkey," Nina said. She put a hand on Zoey's shoulder as he walked.

"He's a keeper, Zo," she whispered in her ear.

"I know," she said. "I'm planning on it."

* * *

><p>Zoey was finishing up Lacy's nails; the detail of a monarch's wings in small snapshots.<p>

"Oh my gods, Zo, it's so pretty!" Lacy said. "No way I could do that!"

"I'm not done yet," she laughed. "Stay still Lace."

That's when she heard a bunk on the other side of the room explode in laughter. Usually she would only have been happy to hear it, but something about it made her look up.

Estella and Scarlett were lounging on Silena's old bunk, people with them. It was the first time the bunk had been touched since she'd died.

"Oh, the look on his face will be priceless!" Scarlett rejoiced.

"Who's face?" Zoey called across the room.

"Well, Jake, of course." Estella said.

Yes, his face was priceless, but this made no sense to her except for a faint fear that her sister might have a crush on her boyfriend. "When is this?" She asked.

"Zoey," Scarlett said like she should know this, "When you break up with him, of course."

Zoey frowned. "Who said I was breaking up with him?"

At that moment Drew burst from her bathroom. "Oh my gods, Zoey, I lost my lucky earrings and I know it's dark out but please I really need them like right now." She spoke quickly.

"Sure, I'll help you," Zoey said, deciding to settle her conversation with Scarlett later. "Lacy do you mind?"

Lacy shook her head. "I won't touch anything this time."

"'Atta girl," Zoey winked.

Drew followed Zoey outside the cabin, and her best friend unexpectedly grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

"Scarlett can charm speak," Drew said.

"What?" Zoey asked.

"Scarlett can charm speak," Drew repeated. "I've known for a while. It's… it's a quality in her voice, I can hear it. I have perfect pitch, right? I didn't think she knew, but she obviously does, or she's figured it out, or mom told her- I don't know. Estella knows too."

"But I can resist most charmspeak, remember? That's why you used to practise on Silena." Zoey said.

"Which is why I didn't tell you right away," Drew said. "But I don't think it's weak anymore. I think she's strong."

"As strong as you?" Zoey asked. Drew was strong enough to charmspeak even Zoey now.

"She's too young for that," Drew said. "No. Not as strong as me. But that's not what I'm worried about. You're in an extremely vulnerable position and Scarlett's in a good one."

"What do you mean?"

Drew rolled her eyes in a 'oh my god, _duh' _way. "A counsellor who suggested we all do something together as a cabin. The idea suggested was the rite. The same counsellor then doesn't do it for her own reasons, her own gain..."

Zoey didn't have anything to say.

"I don't have anything against Jake, and I don't have anything against you. I don't have any problem with your relationship. I love it, you know that, I love you, I love Jake. But some people in the cabin don't."

"What?" Zoey asked. "Why?"

"It's something Estella's been mentioning," Drew said with another roll of her eyes- this time annoyed. "She dropped a comment once around the lines of," Drew adjusted her voice in a fairly good imitation of their sister, "Hey, isn't it weird that Silena dated a child of Hephaestus and refused to do her rite, then Zoey's dating one and she hasn't done it yet?"

Her voice went back to normal Drew. "And you _know _how Silena's story ended."

"Of course I do! She was my Eggroll sister!" Zoey said.

"So what do you think every scarred and grieving person in that cabin is thinking?" Drew said crossing her arms. She went on.

"Scarlett's skill isn't focus, it is how many people she can touch at once- which, I'm sorry to say, is a lot. She could charmspeak that into the head of every single person in the cabin. She could make them believe it more than they already do."

Zoey's stomach twisted.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She said.

"You know what it means, Zo," Drew said putting a hand on her arm. "They're expecting you to do your rite of passage _with _Jake since he's your first since the rite started _without _Jake knowing about it and then _not _getting back together with him. Before December 14th, that's when your time limit ends; the ten week limit."

Zoey went pale.

"What if I refuse?"

"The cabin exiles you," Drew said simply.

"That hasn't been done in hundreds of years," Zoey said.

"I'm not saying it's acceptable," Drew said. "But it's in the original rules, and that's what-"

"What they suggested we follow…" Zoey said. "What if they never found out I told him?"

"Oh, they will," Drew said. "There's a curse associated with lying about the rite of passage."

"Permanent makeup?" Zoey sniggered.

"Death of the boy or girl, I think." Drew said.

Zoey got serious. "And that's also..?"

"In the official rules to which everyone agreed," Drew nodded. "It was in small print."

"But- but, I can't break up with Jake," Zoey said. "That's…" She tried to find the right words. Zoey always had ideas- the right idea, the right thing to say, the right picture, the right word… But she had nothing face to that.

Drew sighed. "I don't see any way around it," she said.

Zoey's knees went limp and she staggered.

What had she done? She'd accidentally let her cabin reinstate a horrible rite that broke hearts left and right.

Zoey remembered when her heart had broken. Emma, freaking _Emma. _Whenever she heard the socially popular and pretty name she cringed and got mad inside- not because she didn't like Emma, she had no grounds to or not to. But because of what Emma was in her mind. Did she want 'Zoey' to be the Hephaestus' cabin's 'Emma'? Did she want Harley to stop blushing when he saw her and get mad instead?

She didn't want to be anybody's Emma.

"I didn't realise… Oh my gods… Oh my gods, what have I..? What have I done?"

Drew sighed, her eyes closed. She opened her arms to Zoey who, shaking like a leaf, accepted what was possibly the most needed hug of her life.

* * *

><p>She tried to act as normal as possible.<p>

Drew didn't mention it again, but every time Zoey was in Jake's arms she got a look. A sad look, but Drew was trying to keep Zoey's head above the water and her eyes on the prize and her head in the real world. Zoey owed her for it. She'd never have remembered –or even considered- the rite of passage.

And she started noticing things from Estella and Scarlett. She started noticing nasty looks directed at her, noticing their conversations getting quieter as she got near, noticing that they preached to a small group of Aphrodite campers now…

She also figured out who'd leaked the rumour about her and Jake; Estella. She overheard she and Scarlett talking.

Time rolled by and it was December 10th before Zoey even _looked _at a calendar, and she had four days left to do this but her heart was just crinkled and dying and broken and hurt.

She felt guilty every time she looked at Jake now. She was going to break his heart because of a stupid tradition her stupid sisters had put the cabin up to by their psychological bullying of the rest of them.

Hearts weren't something you could juggle around with. There was no circus where an act with music and amazement was dedicated to juggling hearts. You didn't do that. You picked someone's heart and hugged it close to you and didn't let it go, because if you dropped it, it shattered like glass and was never quite the same.

She couldn't break Jake's heart. She couldn't juggle with it. She was holding it tightly and couldn't let go.

But he'd die.

And she'd be exiled.

And nobody would win.

* * *

><p>Drew came to sat down in the tree house with her one afternoon.<p>

"Monster?" She asked opening the cooler.

"No thanks," Zoey said. Drew checked the flavours, didn't find her favourite and shut the cooler. She sat down next to Zoey, lands dangling in between railings and over the patio edge.

"You're not going to do it, are you?"

"I don't want to." Zoey said.

"Honey…" Drew said.

"Look, it's easy for you to say," Zoey said. "You don't love someone. You didn't tell your stepmother that he was a keeper, you didn't make plans with someone, you didn't keep his poetry under his pillow, you didn't…"

Zoey broke down and Drew scooted closer so that Zoey's head would naturally fall onto her shoulder and her face would be buried in her hair.

* * *

><p>December 12th; the hunters came by. Zoey was excited; Capture-the-Flag, yes! And this time, because the Aphrodite cabin had motivation for it, they were actually given a job and Zoey got to lead.<p>

* * *

><p>December 13th:<p>

"Good luck kiss?" Jake asked.

Zoey went on her tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek, her hand on his cool metallic armoured shoulder.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, Estella stood up in the cabin.<p>

"Zoey, you have 24 hours to break up with Jake before your exile." She said.

It was unceremonious. It was quick and harsh and sudden and very, very public. Everyone was there, and everyone paused. Zoey's hand hovered over Drew's toenail on which the pattern of a bandana was being painted.

"Pardon me?" Zoey said, hands on her hips, getting up.

"Original rules of the Rite of Passage, as established by Victoire de Rupert in the eighteenth century," Scarlett said. Her voice was sweet. To Zoey it was like a chemically made perfume; good-smelling but off. To everyone else it must be pretty convincing charmspeak. "You've had your fair time limit. You've had plenty of time."

A few people nodded. Zoey's whole body filled with dread. She was looking like a fool.

"Unless, of course," Scarlett started. "You're not interested in dumping Jake."

A few jaws dropped and people gasped and whispered. Zoey was looking like an idiot.

"In which case we'll just exile you right now," Scarlett said.

"Yeah, we can do that," a particularly vulnerable-to-charmspeak brother (Chase, bless him) said. He'd never agree with Scarlett any other time.

It was an ugly power struggle. Zoey had to act fast.

"Has it ever occurred to you Scarlett that I'm waiting for the perfect time?" She said slowly.

"And you think that the perfect time will come in the next twenty-four hours?" Estella asked.

"Yes," Zoey said. "Believe me. I know what I'm doing."

* * *

><p>As she brushed her teeth, Zoey spit in the sink and looked outside. She'd never felt more confused or alone or desperate, even if Drew was right by her side like the awesome Egg Roll Sister that she was.<p>

Cabin 8, right next door, was lit up.

Zoey had a wild idea.

* * *

><p>In the middle of the night Zoey got dressed. She wore very plain clothes; jeans and a blue wool sweater Silena had made her.<p>

She snuck outside, but the door opened behind her seconds later.

"Where are you going?" Drew asked. She was wearing world's-comfiest-pyjamas and a tank top, her hair put up with Chinese chopsticks.

"I.." Zoey lost her words. But she decided to be very honest. "I'm going to see the Hunters."

Drew starred at her in shock.

"And why in the world would you do that?"

Zoey swallowed.

"I can't stay at camp because what they're asking me to do isn't right. I have to leave."

"Wait- this is about the rite of passage? Oh gods…" she said. "Zoey…"

"Hearts are not for breaking!" Zoey said. "They're for loving and feeling and living and enjoying."

"Zoey, that's a huge leap to take for _one _person." Drew said.

"You've never been in love, Drew. Not yet, it'll come, I'm sure… But if you had been, you'd understand that it's not. He'd do anything for me, now I'll do everything for him."

"Joining the _hunters?"_

"I can't dump him," Zoey said. "I can't do this. I can't let him think that I don't love him, that there's something wrong with him, that he's not perfect. He's already so unsure of that, because everyone's asking him to be the next Beckendorf, and because it's part of who he is, and because he thinks he's lame…"

"What are you doing?" Drew repeated.

"I'm freaking out!" Zoey said louder than campers should say things after curfew.

"No, I meant _with your life," _Drew said. "Honey, this is extreme. Come back inside, I'll sing you to sleep if you like, relax, and we'll take care of it in the morning."

"No," Zoey said.

"Zoey you can't just leave camp," Drew said. "This is your home."

Zoey was about to agree but she snapped out of it.

"Don't you dare," Zoey said, swatting something invisible away with her hand. "Don't you try to charmspeak me!"

"Zo," her sister begged. "Scarlett and Estella are getting impatient. They will kick you out if you don't do it. Please. You've got to do this."

"What if I rather get kicked out?" Zoey said.

"No, you don't." She said. The charmspeak was sweet and soothing and inviting and Zoey nearly let herself get swallowed by it.

No. She was not some lost sailor washing up at Siren's cove.

Drew knew that Zoey was resisting; knew Zoey well enough. "Please," she said. "I can't lose you too."

Suddenly Zoey saw the world through Drew's eyes, under her point of view. She'd always been replaced or left behind. Her father had gotten married- now he went out for dinner with his wife on their 'meeting anniversary' instead of celebrating his daughter's birthday. Silena had died leaving Drew and Zoey alone. A new girl with charmspeak was now in the cabin.

Drew was her best friend and Zoey felt that pain, she knew about it. It was Drew's darkest secret; the fear of being replaced.

But Jake was her boyfriend, and the first boy she'd been head over heels for. She'd loved a few because her heart was fluttery, but never had this ever felt the same.

"I have to go," Zoey said. "I will not mess with anybody's heart. Not in the next 24 hours, not in the next 24 years, not in my next 24 lives."

"And you don't think that it'll hurt Jake if his girlfriend bolts with the hunters in the middle of the night, out of the blue?" Drew asked.

Zoey raised a piece of paper.

"Oh. You have a note." Drew said. "That fixes everything."

"It's not going to hurt _as bad. _Jake's going to get hurt in the world because it's the world, but I don't want to be the worst that ever happens to him."

"And can I ask why _I _didn't get a note?" Drew asked.

"Stop it," she said. "You can't change my decision. I'm not asking you if you're alright with it."

"And what are you going to tell Mitchell and your father? What's Caleb going to remember about this sister of his who left and never came back?" Drew asked.

"Stop beating around the bush," Zoey said.

"Alright I'll say it; what about _me?" _

"You're going to be counsellor," Zoey said.

"That's not compensation!" Drew said. "That's not any worth to me!"

"Well it wasn't to me either, so welcome to the club!" Zoey said. "Drew, you can't change it. I'm leaving the cabin, I'm leaving Camp, and I'm leaving New York. It's an ugly world if I have to hurt someone to live in it, and I won't do it."

Drew's shoulders slacked. "Silena left because she died. You leave because your heart's in the right place. I can't be sure which hurts most."

And Drew turned around and headed back to the cabin, leaving Zoey alone in the Central Green.

And that was the day Zoey Lévi-Paquette sold her soul for a boy's heart.

* * *

><p><span>Epilogue <span>

Drew walked back into the cabin.

"And?" Everyone asked at once.

"Chiron confirmed it," she said. "Zoey's with the hunters."

The Aphrodite cabin was in a panic.

"She _left?" _Estella said. "Just like that, without telling anybody, in the middle of the night?"

"She told me," Drew said coldly. Estella had no right to be the one complaining about this.

"She's a traitor," Scarlett said. "The hunters? Really? Of _Artemis? _That's an insult to not only us, but to our mother!_"_

_"_Leave her alone!" Mitchell growled, though he was obviously hurt.

"Yeah, of course _you're _on her side," Scarlett said. "You can't trust counsellors who go for children of Hephaestus anymore, can you?"

"Yeah," everyone agreed.

"We should dishonour her," Scarlett said.

That was too much for Drew. No. Zoey was gone, but her legacy was spectacular. This cabin had ruined her friendship; it wouldn't ruin the memory of it.

"Shut up," she said. "Shut the Hades up. Both of you, Scarlett and Estella. The rest of you; forget what she said. Forget it, erase it from your minds, don't even consider it ever."

"Forget what?" Spencer asked, cocking his head to one side.

"I'm counsellor now. Rule number one: nobody talks badly about Zoey. That counts as talking behind her back. Ever. Nobody insults Zoey, nobody gets mad at Zoey, nobody resents Zoey and nobody disfigure who Zoey was. Understand?

Rule number two," Drew started. Her eyes were boring into Scarlett and Estella. These two would keep causing trouble. The excitement Scarlett got from her charmspeak was too much and it wouldn't stop unless Drew did something special about it. It wouldn't stop unless Drew kept the pair with her, kept them under heavy charmspeak, made them her minions… Her charmspeak was probably at its full emotional potential when she said; "You listen to me."

"Of course," Estella said immediately. As Drew had suspected; she was easy to crumble.

"I guess," Scarlett said. "That makes sense."

Drew left the other campers hanging.

"Good. Everyone who's not, get dressed."

And that was the day Drew's grip on the Aphrodite cabin became squeezing, and that was the day she earned her mindlessly following goons.

* * *

><p>Jake stretched his neck to see the Aphrodite cabin, but the counsellor was missing. When he grilled Drew after breakfast, she gave him a note folded up. He recognised Zoey's elegant and round and girly script.<p>

_Dear Jake,_

_ I love you very, very much. I hope you know that, and I hope you always know that. The reason you're not being told this with eye-to-eye contact and a kiss is that I'm far away now (or at least I think I am). I'm with the hunters of Artemis. _

_I have my reasons for joining, and nothing you did is one of them. You were the only reason I might have stayed as a matter of fact. I didn't leave because of you. I didn't leave because you did something wrong, or I was tired of you, or I didn't like what we had, or none of that. It was a hard choice, but I made it. I couldn't tell you in person because it was quite a quick leave. _

_ It's complicated, and it's something I've wanted to do for a while. My life was going so right; I just thought I'd hop on the train now. I can't explain it to you although I wish very hard that I could. I just want you to know that you're not lame and nothing in the world, especially not me, could make you so. You might be an idiot wearing tinfoil, but to me you were the most dashing knight I ever saw._

_ You often asked me how I came up with my (often) crazy ideas for tree houses. I just thought about where I'd want to spend time with you. The tree houses were always about spending time with a loved one, so I hope you find someone else to bring there very soon._

_ Xo _

_ Zo_

Nobody saw Jake for the whole day.

* * *

><p>It was in the middle of the afternoon. Drew had been babysitting Estella and Scarlett the whole day. People were starting to think that they were her minions, following her around, listening and enforcing everything that she said… That was something that Drew would have to keep up for the rest of her time at camp. She was already exhausted by it. Maybe it was just that today was a bad day.<p>

Many people were hanging out at the beach, including a few children of Hephaestus who looks gloomy. Mitchell wasn't there, and he loved the beach.

Will Solace was lounging on a flat-topped rock, chatting with a few children of Nike, laughing.

Having the two troublemakers/minions with her, seeing the children of Hephaestus out of the forge without Jake, Mitchell being absent… After a day of holding it together Drew snapped.

She stormed across the beach and grabbed Will by the shirt and tugged him off his pedestal.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa- what are you..?"

"You are despicable," Drew snapped at him. "You are such a player, you are inconsiderate and I'd call you a bitch but that'd be an insult to dogs."

"Whoa- Drew- what are you doing?"

"Don't act innocent," Drew snapped. "It's your fault people change, and it's your fault nothing's the same. You are an asshole."

And that was the day Drew's reputation started.

* * *

><p><span>The Next Day, December 15<span>

"Everybody ready?" Jake asked. "Yes? Good. Out we go."

He didn't have much energy for it, but Jake was the one who wanted to go check out the traps.

They were walking through the woods, a smaller group than usual- just Jake, Christopher, Hammer and Nyssa- when Jake froze.

"Listen," he mouthed. They heard the sound of lapping. Jake and Nyssa peaked between branches and saw the dragon, the sun glinting off its bronze scales, lapping up the Tabasco sauce and motor oil.

"Get the nets," Nyssa whispered.

"No," Jake said. "I can do this."

"Jake…" Nyssa warned. Jake promised that he was armed.

"Stay behind and cover me," he said.

Jake raised his shield above him and walked out of the bush.

Nyssa looked helplessly towards Hammer and Christopher, but they didn't do anything.

"Hey," Jake called out. "Are you lost, big guy? It's me, Jake. I filled up your bowl when B was too busy with his girlfriend. All the time, right? You gave me a ride once. We're still cool, right?"

The dragon looked up at Jake. His red eyes blinked, in realisation Nyssa realised.

"That's it," Jake said. "How about you let me help you? We've got some fresher oil for you back home, okay? It's been a while since your gears were checked, hasn't it?"

His teeth spun around. That was dragon body language for 'I am happy'.

Jake did well. He was calming the dragon down, making him happy, getting closer. Nyssa started to relax.

But when he tried to touch the dragon's nose tip the dragon's eyes glowed bright red.

"Jake get out of there!" Nyssa called.

"Jake!" Hammer yelled.

But the automaton had already had what was referred to as a buggy circuit.

Basically he'd gone berserk.

The dragon reared on its back legs and when it fell back on all four, one of those paws was on Jake who let out a scream.

"Go get help!" Nyssa said, shoving Christopher away. She nearly went out but Hammer caught her.

The dragon panicked at the scream and scurried off into the woods, his tail whipping and hitting Jake, sending him flying through the air and smashing through a tree.

It wasn't until after they'd moved him to the Big House, bandaged (well, plastered) him up, had him breathing and conscious for ten minutes straight that Nyssa realised something.

This was the first time they'd tackled the dragon problem without a good luck kiss.

* * *

><p><strong>Next Chapter (guess who we're following!):<strong>

**Oliver Carter**

**The Broadway Scene Inc.**

**Coral Theaters Hector Platt**

**And**

**Jim Abrahams**

**Present**

**Beauty Sleep**

**Music and Lyrics by **

**Kenny Schwartz **

**Starring**

**Cosette Greenwalt**** and Roman Willingham**

**Milicent Carter William Hanes Molly Stead Troy Bell Jason Duatz Valerie Fitzpatrick **

**Trevor Lewis Liza Shrew Dan Roberts Michelle Craig Melody Lou Helen Johnson Carson Menzel Isabelle Morretti Elijah Montoya **

**And**

**Christian LeBrown**


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